Stormy Weather
by ForeverFinally
Summary: The flashy rookie and the bitter veteran are going to have to work together if they want to get out of this mess. Complete!
1. Chapter 1

Notes: Lightning/Chick themed story. Set after the movie. This is not slash. But with a little imagination...maybe ;)

Disclaimer: Pixar owns everything, except my own characters, which should be mercifully few. :)

**Stormy Weather**

**Chapter 1**

Chick hated Lightning McQueen.

He watched as the hotshot rookie, flashy, shiny and new, wheeled around his awestruck admirers. A permanent smirk on his face, a lazy glint in his eye. He oozed cocky, young assurance. He knew he was something special.

Chick didn't like to wonder what had happened in those few days McQueen had disappeared. He could only guess it was something life changing and affiliating. Something big and important. Whatever it was, it only served up more hate in Chick for his rookie rival.

Because since his absence, McQueen had become uncannily skilful on the track. Not that he wasn't before. He'd always been good. The amount of times Chick had coaxed a desperate surge in his abused engine just to pull even with the rookie was proof enough for that.

Yes, he knew McQueen was good. But _now_. Now he was brilliant.

And now he had a certain something about him he didn't have before.

Chick supposed, as he kept a haughty gaze on the rookie, that McQueen had suddenly developed a noble and moral side. It was a pretty rare thing in the racing world, that was for sure. The King had it. Actually, quite a few racing legends had it. But generally, racing was a ruthless business, and you needed to be a ruthless race car to compete.

Chick was pretty proud of the fact that he was as ruthless as they came.

Kind of comforted by this, he smirked.

"Hey, Thunder. Nice racin' back there. Nice."

Then Chick scowled. McQueen might've gained a few manners since his disappearance, but he was still more than adept at winding the older racer up.

"Keep a lid on it, McQueen." he offered the rookie a nasty glare.

For once, or maybe it was the first time Chick had noticed, McQueen had the good grace to look apologetic. He watched, still scowling, as the hotshot turned away to meet a clutch of adoring fans.

"You gotta slow it down a bit, Chick."

Chick blinked up to see his crew chief looking down at him; face stern and apprehendable.

"What? Whatta you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about, Chick. That near miss with number 62? And then the mash up with McQueen! What were you thinkin'?"

Chick frowned. "Same old, same old." he said, "It's never bothered you before."

"Yeah well," the crew chief looked severe. "There's a lot more hotshots out there these days, Chick. An' they're gonna start wisin' up to your tricks, and you'll be getting more than you bargained for. Get me?"

Chick stared at his crew chief. "What?" Never before had his racing been damned in such a way. And to hear it from his own crew was only rubbing salt in the wound.

He narrowed his eyes, "Oh yeah, _I get you_." he half sneered, hoping he looked much more indifferent than he felt.

"Look, Chick, I'm just being concerned, here...I know you wanna win. I know you're determined..."

Chick chose to ignore the worried glint in his crew chiefs eye. He had no time for this kind of screwy talk.

"You're telling me this when we got one race to go before the end of the season?" he asked instead, incredulous. "I'm doing great. I'm tying with that hotshot McQueen. And you think I gotta change tactics now?"

"I'm not saying that-"

"I know what you're saying." Chick glared. "You don't think I can cut it, right?"

"No-"

Chick didn't care to hear anymore. He rolled away, his face stormy. As he neared his trailer though, he began to feel his anger dissipate. His crew chief's words took their hold, and Chick found himself replaying them in his head;

_You're gonna be gettin' more than you bargained for._

Chick didn't like to think he was afraid; and in any case, he'd suffered his fair share of crashes in the past. None of them had been life threatening. They'd all been treatable.

No, it wasn't the idea of a crash that scared him.

He didn't care; when he raced he was far too wound up in the competition to worry about such disasters as that. When he raced he was quite fearless. Almost to the point of recklessness, maybe.

It gave him an edge, it was what he'd built his reputation on. Any race car that had an ounce of sense would do well to steer clear of Chick Hicks, it had often been warned by various commentators.

And Chick was in hearty agreement. He couldn't imagine ever changing his ways, and he wasn't about to start now.

He turned round and offered his crew chief a scowl. But it was redundant; the chief's back was turned and he was talking to the pit crew.

Feeling a little more vindicated, Chick cursed to himself as he rolled into his trailer. He felt quite tired; his engine was still a little tender with the strain of the race, and remnants of heat prickled against his undercarriage. As he lowered against the trailer, feeling his eyes droop, he watched his pit crew depart.

They always hung out after a race, no matter how successful Chick was that day.

Chick wasn't sure why they bothered. He'd come in his trademarked second place today. Any other car might have been content. Chick wasn't, especially when he came in second to one Lightning McQueen.

888

Lightning disliked Chick Hicks quite a bit.

He didn't hate him. Lightning didn't actually hate anyone; but he knew that he at least disliked Chick.

As he sat in the Rust-Eze camp that evening, occasionally slurping a can with Mac, Mater and Doc, he was reminded of how much he disliked Chick.

Watching a replay vid, he disliked the boxy green car which all too often dug into his side, cut him off, and generally made racing more a death defying stunt than a mere test of speed and endurance. Sometimes he'd wonder where Chick got his iron nerve from; because viewing a race like this was certainly not for the faint hearted.

"Ooh, he nearly gotcha there!" Mater was whooping and cringing, enjoying the play back a bit too much. Lightning wasn't sure if he should be amused or concerned.

He offered the tow truck a weak chuckle, "Mater, he almost bumped me _outta the track_,"

"Yeah, he sure did!"

Lightning shook his head and smiled grimly. He'd long since given up trying to explain the potential lethality in NASCAR racing to Mater.

He turned back to the replay vid, recoiling with dread as Chick gave him a particularly nasty bump to the side. It had skewed Lightning off track quite a bit, and although he already knew the outcome of this race, he couldn't help but half-close his eyes.

"A cheap trick." said Mac

Lightning grimaced; "Yeah, but a pretty close cheap trick,"

"Let's see it again!" Mater pushed the remote eagerly.

Lightning was forced, with a hardened pout, to watch the scene play out once more. Chick came at him with a reckless veer, almost unbeneficial on the green car's part; he seemed to become just as skewed as Lightning himself.

Mac looked at him; "Eh, I think he just does it to annoy you, Lightning."

Lightning turned uneasily to Doc, who was peering at the replay with a resigned face. He shook his head at Lightning;

"Kid, that Chick's got his tactics, but one of these days they'll work against him. You just keep focussed on the finish line. It's never done you any harm before, has it?"

Lightning smiled, not for the first time incredibly grateful that he had Doc as his crew chief. Of course it helped that Doc was also an ex-champion, a legend in all respects. This guy knew what he was talking about.

"Yeah, you're right." he nodded. Then noticed for the first time a dark grazing across his side. "Damn."

"Nothin' a paint job can't fix." Mac grinned.

"But I'm meeting Sally tonight,"

"I'm sure she won't mind," Doc winked, "Girls dig scars."

Inspired, Lightning smirked back.

He rolled out of the Rust-Eze camp, happily relieved that there were no loitering paparazzi about. He did spot a solitary Chick Hicks though. The green car was rolling into his pickup, an irritated look on his face. Not wanting to engage in combative words that evening, Lightning was careful to be quiet as he rolled by the rival race car. He saw, through the corner of his eye, a dark graze struck across Chick's side. It perfectly mirrored Lightning's own.

Lightning was mildly satisfied, and a little of Doc's words seemed to hold resonance in his mind in that moment; _Chick's got his tactics, but one of these days they'll work against him._

Smiling vaguely, McQueen made toward the stands, where Sally was waiting for him.

888


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The last race of the season was fast approaching, and with it the media were more vocal about their chosen support than ever before. For two whole seasons now, Lightning McQueen had been named the golden boy of the profession, much to Chick's endless irritation.

It all stemmed from that Piston Cup tie, the King's last race of his career. Since then McQueen had been idolised, and in turn, Chick had been mercilessly vilified.

He wouldn't have minded, perhaps even liked the idea of becoming the stand out bad guy, but with it there had been some distinct disadvantages.

For one thing, Chick had been denied the Dinoco sponsorship. At the time he'd waved it off, played it low and cool and given abrupt interviews on how the entire scandal didn't really bother him much at all.

But sometimes he did wonder, as he looked over the newest race car model for Dinoco, if his words actually justified what he was thinking inside.

And these days he found it hard to look the King in the eye.

He never thought about it for too long. It wasn't something he usually did, anyway._ Now_ was important, not whatever had happened before. Who cared about that?

With this in mind, Chick had rolled out of his pickup, confident and eager as ever to greet the mass media. Their adoring flash photography was almost blinding, but Chick revelled in it.

Right now they were parked outside a service station, along with a few other trucks. A stop off on the lengthy journey to the final race. Chick was disappointed to find his pit crew had already sloped off to grab some gasohol, but he was quick to forget about it when an anxious looking photographer shoved a mike in front of him;

"Chick, how are you feeling about the last race of the season?"

"Aw, you know. Pretty confident." Chick played up.

"-You've had a few near misses, a shaky few starts this past season; do you think that'll prove any major problem in the final race?"

"-what?" Chick narrowed his eyes. "You're kiddin', right? I've never felt so good!" he revved his engine, to prove the point.

An immediate flash of cameras followed.

Satisfied, Chick offered his interviewer a roguish grin. She smiled coyly back.

_Oh yes_. Chick still had the old charm, there was no mistaking that.

He wheeled toward the gas station, basking in the flashing that followed behind him. His mood was only down-turned by the telling Superliner parked outside the station. Marked clearly across it, in an unashamedly swaggering pose, was Lightning McQueen.

Chick gritted his teeth as he rolled into the bar.

888

"Any publicity is good publicity,"

Lightning looked at the monitor with undisguised contempt. Bob Cutlass, renowned racing commentator, was sparring with his partner Darrell Cartrip over the hot favourites for this year's cup. And now they just so happened to be discussing Lightning's least favourite guy.

"Well, I'm with ya there, Bob. Chick's proven that despite the bad press last season, with the whole piston cup farce, he's still gutsy enough to come back out there and aim for that first place spot."

Lightning pulled a face.

"Of course. He's a bit of a veteran now. But he's persistent. Gotta give the guy that. Someone for the rookies to watch out for."

"Yeah,_ right._" Lightning turned away from the monitor.

He slurped unenthusiastically on his can and wondered where Mac was. The bar was quite full, brimming with chatter; mainly enthusiastic racing fans come to steal a few autographs. Earlier that night Lightning had found himself being mobbed, until the rather burly station owner; a four by four, had kicked a lot of them out. Since then the bar was much quieter, though sometimes Lightning felt the odd adoring gaze cast his way.

It was at times like this that Lightning wished Sally was about, but she was committed to looking after Radiator Springs.

He sighed heavily, leaning a bumper against the bar, and thought of Sally with a small hint of doubt. He wondered how he was going to keep her happy when he was always so far away. It wasn't very fair on her.

But still, Sally had insisted she was fine with the entire situation...

"How're you holdin' up, McQueen?"

"Huh?" Lightning turned a lazy gaze to his right to see a smirking Chick Hicks. To his credit, the green car didn't look in the mood for antagonistic banter. But Lightning's smile was forced, all the same. "Oh. Hi, Chick." he turned away, hoping Chick would just leave him alone.

"Boy, am I looking _good!_"

No such luck. Lightning followed Chick's gaze to the monitor, where the commentators were still discussing him.

"See that bumper? And you don't get rear suspension like that on your fancy new models!"

Lightning looked at Chick, unimpressed. "Yeah, right." he said with unenthusiastic sarcasm.

"Bit down in the ditch today, Lightning?" Chick asked, falsely concerned. "What's the matter? Leaky engine oil? Got a bit of that fancy paintwork stuck in the motor?"

Lightning bit his lip. He didn't like to sink to Chick's taunting level, but sometimes it was so hard...

"Maybe you should just head back home, kid. Go back to Radiation Stinks with all your hill billy friends, huh?"

Lightning felt himself getting heated; "Alright,_ that's it_," he rolled forward, and revved his engine.

Chick laughed; "Whoah-whoah! What's this? You gonna fight me, McQueen?"

Lightning could hear some apprehensive murmurs all about the station, and he suddenly felt a bit ridiculous. He wasn't going to fight. What the hell was that going to help? Not much; unless he thought a dented body would prove any advantage in the final race of the season.

Surrendered to this fact, Lightning veered backwards, keeping a fixed glare on Chick.

"You're not gonna fight?" Chick looked mockingly disappointed. "Too bad, McQueen. Too bad."

"Lucky for you." Lightning muttered, turning back to his can and taking a small slurp.

"What you say, McQueen?"

"Nothing. Forget it." Lightning said wearily. Lord knew he didn't want another argument.

"You know what your problem is, McQueen?"

"What?" Lightning snapped, giving up any pretence that he was going to keep his cool. He turned back to face Chick.

"You've got too big for your wheels, that's what. That and all this stupid nice car act." Chick looked almost disappointed. "Who're you tryin' to kid, anyway? You spend a few days in some lousy, little dump of a town and you come back like some high and mighty Mercedes!"

Lightning raised a windshield, completely thrown by the remark.

"Well. It's not harmed my reputation any, has it, Chick?" he said at last. He smirked, sure he'd got the other car there.

And so he was sort of surprised when Chick didn't bite back.

The green car just glared at him, then turned with a growling engine and streaked out of the station.

Lightning watched him go, wondering whether he should be satisfied or not. It was strange that he even had to wonder about it, really.

If anything, he should have been totally satisfied. This was Chick Hicks he was dealing with, after all. Total jerk on and off the racetrack.

Still, Lightning lingered in the station feeling nothing if not kind of unhappy with the entire situation.

He continued slurping on his can, and put it down to his pining for Sally.

In the background, he faintly heard the commentators chattering away on the monitor screen about his chances in the final race of the season.

888

An ominous shuddering engine and a sharp stalling jolt pulled Chick out of a meaningless dream about broken axles. He mumbled groggy complaints, cursing his driver for being so clumsy, before blinking open his eyes.

The truck was dark, but not so dark that Chick couldn't recognise it wasn't his. This truck was bare, no lighting, no self congratulatory posters, no on-demand massage unit. This was just a _truck_.

Then he noticed, for the first time, the other car sleeping close to him; so that their sides touched ever so slightly.

Despite the darkness, it wasn't hard for Chick to spot the telling red polish, the bright orange and boldly numbered 95 painted across the other car's side.

Lightning McQueen?

Fully alerted by his own confusion, Chick sprang upright, and his eyes widened as unfamiliar voices sounded from outside.

"C'mon. Let's get it movin', boys."

"Yeah, we gotta get outta here before those stupid trucks catch on."

Chick strained to hear, but it was hard when the stranger's engine revved into being. They were _moving_.

"What the..." Chick looked about desperately, before remembering that Lightning was sat by him. He nudged against the other car with some desperation. "Hey, wake up, _wake up, stupid!_"

"Wha...huh? Mac? Are we here already?" Lightning said, voice heavy with sleep.

"Define here, McQueen."

Lightning sprung awake with a start. He looked at the other car through incredulous eyes.

"Chick? What the hell are you doing in my truck?"

"You tell me!" Chick reared up some more, mirroring Lightning's stance. "If this is your idea of some stupid little joke, I can tell you right now you got a weird and not funny at all sense of humour-"

"-what, wait," Lightning snapped an interruption; eyes darting about the darkened truck with growing apprehension. "This isn't my truck! Where's Mac?" his own panic setting in, Lightning reversed backwards and crashed noisily against the wall. "Ow."

"Shut up!" Chick hissed, "and tell me what's going on!"

"I don't know! I'm in the dark as much as you!" he looked around again. "Like, literally!"

"Yeah right, McQueen-"

A murmur of voices spoke up, and Chick froze mid sentence. "Listen," he whispered. "I heard these guys before. Before we started moving."

"Before we started moving?" Lightning was alarmed. "Just how long have you been awake?"

"Listen!" Chick snapped.

Lightning obliged with a sullen pout, and the voices seemed to become clearer;

"...Yeah, we're pretty clear of the station now. Man, that was easy. I can't wait to see the guys faces at the Piston cup."

"It'll be a picture! Think how much we'll get for these two! These are some pretty nice sets of wheels we got here..."

"Wait till we get em sold, then we're talkin' big money."

"Sold?" Lightning gasped.

Chick offered him a glower, still trying to make out the voices. But they had been caught up in the engine once again. The truck was picking up speed, and Chick felt faint vibrations running through his tires.

He looked at Lightning; "This is your fault, rookie!"

"Excuse me?" Lightning was scandalised.

"Somehow you got me in this mess. And now I'm gonna be ripped apart by a couple of psychotic criminals!"

"Hey, whatever's gonna happen to us, this had nothing to do with me, Chick." Lightning said with conviction.

Chick eyed Lightning suspiciously. Through the darkness he could only make out Lightning's vague outline, and he wasn't sure if he could trace sincerity in the red car's eyes. Defeated by his own unconfident judgement, he blinked away.

"Yeah, well. I wouldn't put it past you, McQueen. You'd do anything to win the Piston Cup."

"How does that even make sense?" Lightning looked at him incredulously. "Even if I had set up this entire thing, why would I put myself in this stupid situation as well?"

"I don't know." Chick said, "You're the one with the crazy scheme here, McQueen."

"Are you kidding?" Lightning scoffed, and then seemed struck with his own suspicion. "Besides, if anyone's crazy enough to do something like this, it's_ you_."

Chick blinked at Lightning. "What? What does that mean?"

"You're the one who'd do anything for a stupid Piston Cup!"

Chick prickled. "What're you saying?"

"You know what I mean!"

Chick was momentarily jolted, but was quick to cover it with a superior look of nonchalance. "Whatever, McQueen."

"You're the one who-"

"I said _whatever_." Chick interrupted, turning away as well as he could, considering the cramped environment they were settled in.

"_Fine_." Lightning mirrored the action.

And so the two stock cars sat in stubborn silence, petulant and unwavering.

8

Lightning was almost glad of the quiet. He needed time to sort his panicked mind out.

His head was swimming with floundering questions of all sorts. For one brief minute he had been convinced that this was all Chick's doing. He couldn't imagine anyone else to be so conniving, so desperate as to go to such lengths for the Cup...

But that theory had been done away with when he's actually witnessed Chick's own reaction.

Lightning knew, for all the other car's sarcastic pretence, that he was just as terrified as Lightning himself by the situation. So as much as he hated to admit it, Chick appeared to be innocent.

But that in itself made their car-napping all the more terrifying. Because they were both clueless as to who had captured them in the first place. And for what?

Lightning thought hard about his whereabouts the night before. He had been in the bar, drinking gasohol. He'd had a short lived argument with Chick, and then he'd carried on drinking. And then...

He couldn't remember.

But usually he'd go back to Mac, who'd be waiting for him.

Mac! Mac would surely know about his disappearance by now. And with any luck, a search warrant would be out.

But still...it had taken much more than a day for them to hunt him down in Radiator Springs last season. Disheartened, Lightning lowered a little more against the truck and sighed his frustration. He ventured a reluctant look at Chick.

Chick perfectly echoed his own expression, and Lightning wondered if that might serve as some kind of advantage. Maybe give them some familiar ground to work on.

"So, er," he spoke slowly, "do you...do you have any ideas how you ended up in here? Cos I can't remember a thing."

Chick raised a windshield at him, appearing disinterested. "I don't know. I just know I woke up in this dumb truck. And now I'm stuck with you, when I should be getting ready for the Piston Cup."

"Hey, I'm in the same situation, okay?" Lightning said as calmly as he could, "I'm just...just trying to get this clear in my head." he bit his lip, trying to think. "So...neither of us remember how we got here, right?"

"Right," Chick mimicked, patronising. The green car shifted a little further away from Lightning, so that he was bumped up against the truck side. "Anymore bright conclusions, genius?"

Lightning bit back an angry response, quelling his temper. He supposed he could grant Chick a bit of leeway, considering the potentially dangerous circumstances they were in. Instead he offered the other car a patient look, which was wasted anyway. Chick was glaring at the truck wall with fierce intent.

"Look," Lightning spoke cautiously, "We just need to think of a way to get out of here, okay?"

Chick glanced at Lightning, and seemed about to respond when the truck suddenly came to a juddering stop.

Lightning looked ahead of him anxiously, then whispered- "Are we here?"

"Wherever here is," Chick muttered. Then he seemed to perk up, "Hey!" he yelled, banging a wing against the truck side. "Open up, you jerks!"

"Don't! Stop!" Lightning gasped. "What're you doing?"

"I'm gonna find out who the hell car-napped us!" Chick banged once more against the truck.

"Ssh!" Lightning hushed. "Don't you see? If we let them know we're awake we don't stand any chance of escape."

Chick looked quizzical. "Rook, in case you hadn't guessed, we're pretty much trapped in here anyway. There's no way out."

"Not necessarily."

"Oh really?" Chick asked with shameless sarcasm.

Lightning ignored him, and turned a concentrating gaze to the truck exit. "Maybe..maybe we can get out of here." he muttered, aware of Chick's cynical scowl.

"What do you plan on doing? Break the door down?" the green car taunted.

"There should be a bolt up here," Lightning moved forwards and reared up a little.

"Right." Chick snorted.

Lightning was undeterred. He felt sure there was an exit lock somewhere. At least, there was one on Mac...

And there it was; a bolt glistening dimly; a fair way above them.

"There, I've found it!"

"Found what?"

"The lever to open this damn truck," Lightning allowed himself a smug smile.

Chick moved forwards and followed Lightning's gaze through narrowed eyes. "Well, hotshot. You gonna open it?"

Hesitant, Lightning veered upright, as far as his axles would allow. But it was in vain; he just couldn't reach the bolt.

Chick laughed spitefully "Too bad, McQueen."

Lightning lowered back down, frowning. Then he looked at Chick and was suddenly inspired.

"Hey, if I get a lift up I can reach it,"

Chick looked at Lightning as if he was crazy, "What? No...no way, McQueen."

"You wanna get out of here, right?"

"Yeah, but there's no way I'm letting you get your dirty tires all over my hood!"

Lightning scoffed, "I thought you didn't care about a little scratched paintwork!"

"I-I don't!"

"Not that it matters," Lightning continued, amused, "I mean, what paintwork? With all those stickers you can't even see it!"

"Alright, _alright_!" Chick spoke with indignation. "Come on, get it over with." he manoeuvred forwards a little more, glaring daggers at Lightning.

Lightning grinned as he rolled carefully onto the other stock car's back. Chick lowered against the weight; teeth gritted and muttering curses.

"Hurry up, McQueen!" he urged.

Lightning; his front two wheels completely rested on Chick's back, attempted with as little fuss as possible, to heave himself the rest of the way up. He cringed as Chick strained and groaned under his tires.

"Alright down there, Thunder?"

"Oh yeah..._wonderful_, McQueen. Just wonderful."

Lightning laughed nervously as he rolled the rest of the way onto the other car, not so much for the precarious grip he had on Chick's hood, but more for the entire situation in general. Again, he was hit by an attack of nerves, and with it a blinding confusion.

Because even if they did manage to get out of here, they had no clue as to where they were. Neither of them had any idea where they were headed, nor why they had been took, nor how they'd escape.

As much as Lightning didn't like to think it, Chick might have had a point. Maybe they had been captured by a couple of psychotic, gut ripping criminals...

Lightning swallowed down a nervous gulp, trying to fix his concentration once more on the bolt set a few maddening inches above him.

He arched up and reached a tire towards it.

"Nearly...just..." he slipped, his tire slamming down. Chick met the impact with a shudder.

"What're you playin' at, McQueen? Just hit the damn bolt!"

"Right, right," Lightning trained his eyes back above them. "Just gimme a sec." he exhaled slowly, then, with flailing precision, he reached out a tire once more and caught the bolt.

The truck door clamped down with a terrible bang, and both Lightning and Chick recoiled.

"Oops." Lightning uttered. Beneath him he felt a fierce vibration, and then-

"Alright! We're free!" Chick raced forwards. Lightning tumbled off him with a creaking thump.

With less enthusiasm, more caution, he crawled out of the truck. "Chick," he half whispered a warning. He watched as the other car scooted about the dirt ridden ground in victorious circles.

"What're you waitin' for, McQueen? I'm outta here!"

Lightning opened his mouth in protest, but a roaring engine was enough to halt him. He turned to see the large bulky framed face of the truck leering down at him.

"Boys," it spoke in a deep voice, "looks like they're tryin' to do a runner on us,"

Lightning watched, wide eyed, as two chunky motorbikes loomed from behind the great truck.

"Uh oh." Lightning said in a small voice. By his side, he heard Chick's engine rev up.

"Move it, McQueen!"

Snapped into gear, Lightning turned and followed the other race car on the dirt strewn road.

Behind them, he could hear the distinct and savage growls of the motorbikes. Clueless to what he was really doing, Lightning shifted up a gear, fast on Chick's tail.

888


	3. Chapter 3

_Lightning and Chick have been kidnapped by mysterious and probably evil folk! What is a car to do?_

**Chapter 3**

The rough sensation of dirt grinding up against Lightning's tires brought back happy memories of days in Radiator Springs. He might have savoured the memory, if not for his current rather terrifying situation.

Behind him, the motorbikes were picking up speed, and worryingly, it seemed both he and Chick were slowing down.

"Man, they're fast," Chick yelled above the roar of engine.

"You're telling me," Lightning was only relieved they weren't actually slowing down. And that maybe his melodramatic thoughts of near impending doom might not just be exclusive to himself. The motorbikes were incredibly fast. A vast plume of dirt dust gushed into Lightning's face, and he coughed and spluttered through it, to see Chick had accelerated ahead.

"Get movin', McQueen!"

Lightning struggled to navigate through the dust Chick had left behind, but spurred ahead anyway. The motorbikes sounded frighteningly close, to the point where Lightning could smell their gastric fumes.

"Wh..where are we going?" he yelled blindly. "We don't know where we're going!"

At last the dust cloud had cleared and Lightning found himself dangerously close to Chick's rear. He swerved round so that he was by the green cars side.

"Look ahead!"

Lightning followed Chick's gaze; and there, about a hundred metres or so in front, was a great, long gorge. Lightning could not help the small squeak which spouted from his mouth.

"We're gonna have to jump it!" Lightning found himself saying in quite a controlled voice, despite the whole coming-to-an-impending-death thing..

"Are you kiddin' me, McQueen?" Chick sounded incredulous, "No way!"

"That or get left to the bikers!"

Behind them, the bikers had picked up momentum, so much so that one of them had sided up to Lightning. He attempted to dodge away, but ended up bumping against Chick.

"Hey!" Chick growled, struggling to maintain control for a moment, before casting Lightning a quick glare. "Whatta you doin', McQueen?"

"They're at my side!"

Chick glanced over with wide eyes before gunning his accelerator once more and tearing ahead. Lightning followed suite, and he could feel a nagging ache in his engine. Even he, a race car, was testing himself now. He knew that Chick was probably feeling much the same. They wouldn't be able to keep this up for very long...

And suddenly the gorge was upon them.

Lightning couldn't remember a time he had picked up such a consistent speed, and beside him Chick was racing at the same manic rate. So now was as good a time as any to jump a lethal gorge, he supposed.

Through gritted teeth he yelled;

"Let's jump it!"

"Are you crazy? We turn, you idiot!"

Lightning frowned at the insult, and as a result was distracted. His engine began to lull down.

"Fine," he responded cooly, as the gorge was almost on top of them. He turned jaggedly to his right and kept driving as fast as his straining engine might allow.

He guessed, although was not overly concerned, that Chick had opted to turn left at the last minute. He also guessed, with a fair bit more concern, that the bikers had chosen to pursue Chick instead of himself, as the brutal roar of engines seemed to die away the further he drove.

888

Chick's engine throbbed with an intense stinging sensation, and with it a terrible heat prickled all about his undercarriage. His tires were burning up and he knew that if he didn't slow down soon he'd face some serious mechanical bills.

Still, he could definitely hear a bike on his tail. To his mild comfort it had slowed considerably. All he could do now was hope that the bike bust his tires before he did.

With a last surge of energy, he pressed ahead. He was thankful that the land around him was so open and barren, because if the dirt had contained any sort of winding track he was quite confident he'd be loose on his wheels right now.

He swerved and turned about the ground, hoping to confuse the bike, before speeding straight on again. It seemed to do the trick, as the bikes engine seemed to fade away. But Chick wasn't going to take any chances trying to find out. He flawed his accelerator once more, and kept up a speedy pace for a good while.

When he eventually slowed it was completely, and he came to a creaking stop.

He sighed happy relief and took a moment to indulge in the simple pleasure of just not moving at all.

"Now that's what I'm talkin' about." he grinned lazily, closing his eyes against a white hot sun which burned down on the terrain.

He vaguely thought about the Piston Cup. And how he was so hopelessly far away from it, how lost he was. How he should probably just keep moving in case those bikers decided to start moving again... And McQueen.

Where the hell had that stupid rookie got to?

Chick blinked open his eyes with reluctance, rising up slightly on his axles. They groaned an unhealthy protest.

"Oh man," he cursed lowly. "This sure isn't good for the Piston Cup." he rolled forwards, cringing against the tender feel of his tires. They hadn't burned out, but they'd come pretty close to it.

Feeling sorry for himself, Chick rolled slowly about the bare terrain, hoping to spot civilisation of some sort. He was only to be disappointed. There was nothing. It was a long stretch of deserted barren land.

"Damn it!" he yelled angrily; his curse echoed about, redundant.

"What's wrong, thunder?"

"Huh?" Chick sprung round, and was shocked to see McQueen wheeling toward him at a slow rate. The rookie wore a slight, cocky smirk. One which Chick particularly disliked.

"What happened to you, McQueen?" he asked with practised indifference.

"I could ask the same," Lightning said just as cooly as he neared the other car. He winced a little; "Thought I nearly bust a tire back there, though."

"Poor you." Chick was unsympathetic. "I nearly bust all my tires, stupid hotshot."

Lightning looked doubtfully down at Chick's wheels. "They look alright to me,"

"I said nearly, didn't I?" Chick replied with exasperation. He rolled his eyes and looked away from McQueen; the insolent rookie was watching him with that unbearably smug grin.

"So where are we headed?" Lightning turned about the area with some curiosity. "Looks like we're lost out here."

"Looks that way," Chick said through gritted teeth, his patience thin. "You got any clever ideas, rookie?"

Lightning looked at Chick through narrowed eyes, "Not yet, and you're not helping with your whining."

"Me? Whining?" Chick was affronted. "Take a listen to yourself some time, rookie!"

"Don't call me rookie!" Lightning scowled. "I'm into my third season!"

Chick smirked, shaking his head with amused cynicism. "Sure, McQueen. Sure." he rolled forwards and hummed into gear.

"Hey-what's...what's that supposed to mean?" Lightning trailed after him.

"Nothin',"

"Where are you going?"

"I'm doin' the sane thing. I'm gonna try and find the interstate."

"Interstate? But we don't know how far away that is. Or even if there is one round here! We don't know where we are!"

"Then I'd suggest we start lookin'," Chick almost enjoyed the state McQueen had got himself into. He might even have taunted him about it, if only he didn't feel exactly the same way about their dire circumstances.

McQueen was right. They had no idea where the hell they were. And who were they to be sure that there was a motorway nearby?

Chick sighed heavily, giving in to his weariness. He looked at their deserted surroundings with apprehension, and then picked up his pace. To his vague annoyance, Lightning followed and overtook him.

Idiot! Chick felt incensed as the upstart drove ahead, a playing look on his face. Chick wasn't having that, and despite a still rather tender engine, he pushed up a gear and drew level with McQueen.

The rookie eyed him sharply and edged in front a little more. Chick followed, and soon the two were vying pettily to overtake one another.

"Not so hot on dirt, McQueen!" Chick jeered, bumping the other car in the wing. He sped ahead as Lightning was knocked out of the insignificant little race.

"Hey!"

Chick laughed to himself as Lightning cursed behind him, leaving thick clouds of dirt in his wake.

"You quit, McQueen?" he called eagerly.

"No!"

8

Lightning spluttered against the dust which enveloped around him, making his eyes sting. He could just make out of the sticker ridden green car making his getaway. And despite a protesting yell, Lightning knew he'd somehow lost.

"Cheat," he mumbled to himself.

He hurried to catch up to the other car, vaguely thankful that Chick had slowed, though he was chuckling and jeering as he did.

"Nice steering there, McQueen. And I thought your stint in Radiation Stinks was supposed to help you on the dirt tracks!"

"Yeah, well," Lightning coughed, angrily glaring at Chick, "Since when were you so good on dirt?"

"I've had practise," Chick said with a knowing wink. He hastened ahead.

But Lightning, despite himself, was quite intrigued. "What do you mean? Have you raced on dirt tracks before?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but yeah." Chick spoke aloofly. "Not everyone starts off on the circuit, McQueen."

"Yeah, I know." Lightning snapped, not wanting to be patronised. "But you still had to resort to cheating, didn't you?"

Chick looked at Lightning through narrowed eyes, "I don't need to cheat. It's just so much fun seeing you spin out." he said nastily.

"Oh yeah, real fun." Lightning was sarcastic. "Come on, Chick. Be honest. The only reason you do so well is cos you're a cheat. It's the only way you can win!"

"What?" Chick halted suddenly and turned to Lightning, his expression dangerous; "You don't know what your talking about, rookie."

"And I'm not a rookie anymore! Just face it, Chick. Cheating is the only way you can win,"

"I don't cheat!" Chick was indignant, "those other cars should just keep their distance. They're asking for trouble if they get close enough for me to bump them out!"

"Asking for trouble from _you_." Lighting glowered. "No other car plays so down and dirty!"

Chick looked at him; "I'm not your other fancy, goodie-goodie cars. Maybe some day you'll realise that and learn to stay outta my way, rookie."

Lightning watched as Chick sped ahead, silently fuming.

"Oh yeah?" he called, "Well if you hadn't crashed the King, you'd have come last! The only reason you won was cos I chose not to!"

Chick braked sharply, reversing back to face Lightning.

"You little brat!" he raced forwards without warning, and Lightning cried out, barely dodging the other cars angry attack.

But Chick was quick to recover himself, and he attacked again. This time Lightning was a little more prepared, but was cuffed in the wing all the same as he swerved out the way.

"You jerk!" he cursed. Then, incensed in his own anger, he charged back at Chick.

Chick didn't seem too intent on dodging the attack, infact he met it with his own charge. The two collided in an angry crush of metal. Lightning winced backwards, not daring to think about the state of his paintwork.

Though he had little time to contemplate, as Chick came at him again. Lightning braced himself and raced forwards.

The two clashed once more; another unpleasant clunk of metal against metal.

"You think you're so great, McQueen!" Chick panted, as he made another turn to hit him.

Lightning swerved out of the way, but met Chick with a quaking slam in the side. He was slightly disconcerted when he felt an abnormal tinkering about his innards.

"Oh yeah, well you're nothing but a dirty, rotten cheat!" Lightning braced himself as he rammed once more against Chick.

The two crashed and collided against each until a thick plume of smoke snaked out of both their hoods, and telling shudders seemed to come from both their engines. More than anything, Lightning's anger had been exhausted, and as they both drew back, suddenly the entire ordeal was put into ridiculous perspective.

Welcomed silence hung around them for a few minutes as they timed out.

"Ow." Lightning groaned, feeling ill and tender. "I think I've broke an axle or something."

"It's not that bad," Chick said groggily.

"Whoah man, you guys are hardcore!"

Both Lightning and Chick blinked up to see four cars looking down at them, adoring grins on their grilles. They were all pretty hardy looking; their paintwork was scratched and had clearly seen better days, but their gently humming engines suggested great speeds.

Lightning was weary. "Excuse me? How long you guys been here?"

"Long enough!" the first car, an army green in colour, laughed. His comrades joined in. "You guys rock! Man, you were trashing each other good."

"Yeah, how'd you guys fight like that?" another car spoke up.

Lightning was confused; "What...we..."

"-look at this, he totally got you, man." the gang leader interrupted. He was wheeling about Chick with interest. "Man, you must be some hardy car."

Lightning blinked over at Chick, and for the first time took notice of the green cars various bruisings. Chick certainly did look a sorry sight; his bumper had been unhinged, so that it dragged slightly on the ground. His windscreen was cracked a little, leaving him with a black eye of sorts, and there was a definite puncture in his front tire.

Lightning might have felt bad for him, if not for his own tenderly aching wounds. Plus the fact that Chick had started the entire stupid fight in the first place.

"He got you good, too." the gang leader was looking at Lightning now. "Right in the side, man."

Lightning turned a nervous grimace to his side, and for the first time he saw an admirable dent.

"Oh man." he groaned, before offering Chick a glare.

Chick looked nothing but irritated. "Hey, whats the deal here, boys?" he demanded. "Do you guys know where the interstate is? I need to get fixed up before I go beat Mc-Drama-Queen's butt."

"You wish," Lightning muttered intentionally loudly.

"Interstate?" the gang leader repeated, then laughed along with the others.

"What?" Chick snapped.

"Good luck with that, my man. The interstate is a looong way away."

"What?" both Lightning and Chick chorused their alarm.

"Pretty far away. I'm talkin' a few days driving straight, at least." the gang leader elaborated. "But there's a few stop offs on the way. Pretty few and far between, though. You boys'll need a stop off pretty soon, I take it?"

"That would be helpful," Lightning said, vaguely sarcastic.

"Well, there's a place not too far away. I guess you can make it there before it get's dark."

"Great," Chick said, sounding as tenderised as Lightning felt. The green car veered through the gang, a determined, agitated look on his face.

McQueen, more automatically than he might have liked, tailed after him.

"Happy drivin, hard core guys!" the gang whooped behind them.

Lightning winced as he caught up to Chick, noting the battered side of the other car; he could only wonder at the extent of his own injuries.

"My poor paintwork." he moaned, feeling self pity envelope him.

"Aw, quit your whining, McQueen," Chick sounded quite furious.

"Hey, you know that I'm putting the mechanical bill on you for this, right?" Lightning said, undeterred.

"The idea is mutual." Chick muttered back. "And while I'm suing your precious Rust-Eze pals I'll be sure tell them about your entire crazy car-napping scheme."

Lightning's expression twisted in disbelief. "I can't believe you still think I'm behind all this! Surely the whole me-driving-for-my-life thing gave it away?"

Chick was not swayed. "You rookies are all the same. Crazy, deluded. More flash than sense." he seemed to have a small epiphany. "Hey, I think the King was right. You really are stupid."

"Of course the King was right!" Lightning felt himself explode. "I was pretty stupid."

"And still are," Chick nodded.

"No, I'm not." Lightning said, then testily added; "well, sometimes I am. But everyone's entitled to some stupid days, right?"

At this, Chick raised a windshield at Lightning, for the first time acknowledging the other car wholly since their fight.

"Then this was perhaps your most spectacularly stupid day ever, McQueen." he stated. "I mean, what was with the whole-oh let's jump over the gorge! thing? I mean, what was that about, McQueen? Do I really have to be the one to point out to you that cars don't actually fly?"

Lightning frowned, petulant. "I could have jumped it. I was at top speed."

"And so was I. And believe me when I say this; there's no way you could have jumped it."

"Maybe you couldn't, but I could." Lightning said with more insistence than perhaps was completely necessary.

Truth be told, he was just intent on winding Chick up. When he chanced a smug glance at the green car, to bode his reaction, he was a little disappointed to see Chick was just not biting anymore.

Huffing, and blowing out a sigh of irritation, Lightning persisted; "Hey, do you think that because we're gonna be suing each other, it won't make a difference anyway? I mean, you'll be getting compensation and so will I. Kinda funny when you think about it." actually, Lightning didn't think it was really very funny at all, but he allowed himself a small chuckle anyway.

And he was nicely rewarded with a frown from Chick.

"When I get outta here I'm seriously gonna be merciless on that track, McQueen," he said with dangerous sincerity.

"Ooh. Is that a threat?"

"Could be. Do you consider being bashed into the shape of twisted metal threatening at all?"

"Er." Lightning snorted. "Depends whose doing the bashing."

"Is that a threat?" Chick's eyes, quite oddly, were glowing with anticipation, and for a moment Lightning was amused. Chick sure was a wild card.

And bizarrely encouraged by the green car's expression, Lightning felt himself laugh shortly. "Could be a threat."

Then Chick laughed too. And it was sort of strange that they both should share in a moment of amusement, no matter how fleeting. And without taking into account they were both amused by the idea of the other being bashed into a piece of twisted metal, of course.

Both caught themselves before the laughter could even be considered aimable. Lightning noticed as Chick picked up a notch of speed, and so he was quick to follow, pressing ahead a little faster.

But this time Chick was not drawn into any meaningless races, and simply kept up his steady yet determined pace.

Lightning felt a little childish as he slowed back a bit. And then he felt hideous regret, when a terrible stinging invaded his innards.

He groaned and found himself slowing against his will quite considerably.

"Oh-ow-ow-ow!" he yelped, and puttered to a piteous stop. His engine croaked and strained, but would not start, and so he watched through vain eyes as the gap between he and Chick widened gradually.

"Uh...hey..." he called meekly.

To his secret surprise Chick came to a grinding halt; reversing round to face Lightning.

"What's up, McQueen?" his expression was uncompromisingly hostile.

"I...I..." Lightning floundered in his own embarrassment for a second, before lowering his eyes sulkily to the ground. "I don't feel very well." he said in a small voice.

He dared not venture a gaze at Chick. He already felt idiotically pathetic as it was. And now he thought the ground was incredibly interesting, and much more preferable than facing a gloating Chick Hicks, at any rate.

He was surprised, not for the first time in such a short space of time, when a quietly humming engine veered to his side. Blinking up, Lightning offered Chick something in the way of a thankful smile.

"Well, what's the problem?" Chick sounded anything but happy to help. He looked agitated and quite tired, really.

"I don't know. My engine just gave out."

"Hmm." Chick didn't look concerned; much more bored.

Lightning felt impatient. "Well? Any ideas?"

"Hey, I'm not a mechanic!" Chick pointed out, though his gaze was set in concentrating thought.

Lighting fidgeted on his tires, not sure if he could trust Chick's judgement. But then again, what other choice did he have? It wasn't as if Doc was handily just over the horizon, about to drive by with a helpful diagnosis and remedy.

"I bet you could use your old pal Doc right now, huh?"

Lightning blinked at Chick, observing his amused face with a little surprise.

"He would have been useful." he admitted grudgingly.

"Well that's too bad," Chick sniped. "And to think, you thought you could handle that gorge."

"Ok, ok. No need to rub it in."

"Oh, I'll be sure too." now Chick was beaming. "When I get back to the Piston Cup, I'll be practically rubbing it everywhere!"

"What are you saying?" despite himself, Lightning was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable, and the strange sort of smile preening Chick's face did little to assure his confidence. He watched, with unfolding horror, as Chick began to roll away at a steady pace. "Hey where you going, Chick?"

Chick grinned. "So long, McQueen!"

"What? No...wait!" Lighting yelled after him. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"What does it look like?" Chick called back, "I'm outta here! Sorry, McQueen. But you really think I'm gonna help out a fellow competitor in the final race of the cup? And you, of all cars? You got another thing coming, rook!"

"Oh...Chick!" Lightning yelled furiously after him, "You...you jerk!" he strained to start his engine; but it barely pulled a feeble croak. Lightning was quite stuck, and with it, terribly enraged.

Not just with Chick, but with himself.

As he watched the green car close off into the distance, Lightning wondered at what point did he ever even consider Chick might have had decent gear in his body.

Whatever point it was, Lightning was now quite sure it was the point that he had temporarily lost his mind.

"Oh." he moaned, feeling hopeless and alone.

888


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Lightning knew, long before anything so catastrophic as this had happened, that Chick was a real jerk.

So he supposed he shouldn't be so idiotic as to get all surprised about it. Surprised that Chick had turned tail, leaving him alone and helpless in the middle of nowhere, with no fuel and no clue as to how to get back home.

Piston Cup be damned, he wasn't going to let this one slide with Chick Hicks.

Lightning stared about the vast surroundings, making tiny mental notes; like how best he might extract his revenge on Chick if- when- he got home. Maybe pull out the sorry stock cars innards, maybe pierce a tire on the track. It would be nothing short of fair when it came to racing Chick.

"Revenge is fun. And very sweet." Lightning spoke aloud, if only to try and comfort his dismal self. He was painfully aware of his scratched paintwork; all courtesy of Chick, of course. And his hurting tires. And the unspeakable pang which had hit his engine, somehow causing him to halt in his tire tracks.

Chick was right; Lightning really could have used Doc's help right now.

Lightning's eyes drooped, and though he knew he could afford anything but sleep at this moment, he couldn't help it. He was tired and felt ill, and the sun splitting over his hood only helped lull him into a light, much needed slumber.

He dreamt of Sally, being back at Radiator Springs, and then of Chick; who looked, for some reason, quite distressed.

888

Chick was distressed.

He had good reason to be, as well.

He couldn't believe he hadn't spotted the two bikers in the orange glowing horizon of midday. And now he had, it was far too late to make any grand presumptions of escape. He knew he was as good as captured, even as he floored the remaining fuel residing in his mistreated engine.

As he growled along the dirty ground, the motorbikes engines gradually closed in; an angry roar of sound which easily cowed Chick into braking.

He wasn't so proud, nor so stupid as to keep up a losing race.

Not when there were no whooping spectators to watch, anyway.

He veered round and faced his car-nappers with defeat.

"Ok, you got me, boys. Now what's the deal?"

The two motorbikes were large and chunky, both equipped with boosters, and unnecessarily flashy accessories. Their head-light eyes were narrow and snake-like as they stared at Chick, and their mouths were set in victorious leers.

Chick wasn't one to show fear with ease, but right now his gut was churning with dread. And he was positive the feeling had extended onto his face.

"Boys," he repeated, clearing his throat, "What do you want with me?" he watched through wide eyes as one of the bikes rolled wordlessly to his rear, incase he might still attempt an escape.

The other biker spoke; "where's the other car? The red one?"

Chick had not paid Lightning McQueen much thought. No other reason, only that just thinking about an abandoned McQueen gave him a mixture of spiteful satisfaction and, bizarrely, some strange mingling of guilt.

Chick wasn't very accustomed to that feeling; guilt, so he had thought it best to block such causes for the feeling out of his mind all together. That cause being Lightning McQueen.

Now, when he blinked at the questioning biker, he looked bored. "Lightning McQueen? How the hell am I supposed to know where he is?"

The biker nodded shortly, as though expecting the answer. Then his face hardened; "Well, seeing as you and he escaped together, I would have thought you'd be the best car to ask, is all," there was obvious menace in his sarcasm.

"We got split up," Chick replied cooly. It was not entirely untrue, after all, as he remembered their mad gait towards the gorge, and then the sudden turn between them when they did not jump it.

"We know that," the biker spat, impatient, "so you're telling me you've spent the better part of this day on your own?"

"Yeah," Chick said, feeling annoyed. "I'm a big boy.. I can take care of myself, y'know."

"Nice to hear," the biker at Chick's rear spoke, sounding darkly amused, "then you should have no problem coming back with us, quietly, on your own,"

Chick turned slightly, raising his bruised windshield at the biker with false intrigue.

"Why? We having a party?" he asked conversationally.

The bike smirked. "Something like that,"

The other bike veered round, studying Chick critically. "So, when you were out here, all alone, how did you manage to get so trashed? Crash into an invisible wall, did we?"

"I'm not trashed," Chick heard himself say in a scandalised voice, before he could stop himself. "I'm perfectly ok."

He quickly felt foolish when the two biker's laughed about him. And then he felt that familiar rage for Lightning McQueen;

"It was that moron, McQueen!" he snapped, "he did this,"

The two bikers' laughs were quelled back into interest.

"So you do know where your friend is?"

Chick snorted. "Friend? Yeah, right." he looked between the two bikers, then leered; "yeah, I know where he is."

"So you'll take us to him, right?"

Chick felt uncomfortable, but the telling strain of his engine and his tired, battered body, easily told him he was at a loose end. He could do little more than cooperate with these bikers, despite what he wanted to do to the contrary. Which was to get the hell out of here and get back to his familiar looking pit crew, chief and all general buzz associated with his beloved Piston Cup final.

"Ok," he said finally. "I'll take you to the stupid rook."

And he did, as far as he could remember he had travelled, they reached the gleaming red of Lightning McQueen in less than half an hour, and for the entire journey Chick felt a confusion of feelings mixing about his insides.

He hadn't really wanted to lead these bikers back to McQueen. No more than he had wanted them to spot him in the first place.

But what was done was done.

He thought perhaps McQueen might understand the uncompromising predicament he'd been placed in; that he'd really had no choice on the matter.

The curled lip and narrowed eyes on Lightning McQueen's face told Chick otherwise.

"What's this? You've joined them?" Lightning was glaring at the two bikers with indignation. Then he turned to face Chick, furious, "You...you did have something to do with this, didn't you? You-you were behind it all along!"

Chick rolled his eyes. Clearly Mc-drama-Queen had been out roasting in the sun too long. "It's not like that, McQueen."

"Right," Lightning was fiercely unconvinced, "it's looking pretty suspicious to me, Chick." the red car made to roll forwards, towards Chick, but was cut off by his own pained groan. The two biker's laughed their amusement at the sight.

Chick looked at them coldly, before turning back to McQueen. "No, you got it wrong, McQueen. These jerks caught me. I couldn't get away. You know I nearly bust my tires earlier-"

"And bust tires somehow made your mouth tell them where I was?" Lightning looked resigned, disappointed, even. "You coulda gone to the next stop off, like those road cars told us. Then called for help. Use what's left of your manic brain, Chick..."

"Hey, watch your mouth, rookie!" Chick growled, rolling forwards.

"Road cars?" one of the bikers spoke up, looking interested. "So you've been in contact with other cars, then,"

"Maybe," Lightning said, "what's it to you, anyway? And what's with capturing me in the first place?" he looked back to Chick, as though expecting him to give a full and elaborate answer.

Chick sighed his annoyance. "I already told you, McQueen. I don't have anything to do with this! Any of it!"

"Then why did you leave me?" Lightning's eyes flashed deep anger.

Chick opened his mouth to respond, before realising he didn't really have much in way of a comeback. What was he going to do; beg McQueen's forgiveness? Confess he'd been a bit of a jerk and feign an apology?

No way.

He clamped his mouth shut, and was saved any further awkwardness by the advancing of one of the bikers. It drove behind Lightning and shoved him nastily forwards without warning. Even Chick was a little startled by it.

"Ow-hey!" Lightning yelped, as he was wheeled against his will. "What...whatta you doing!"

"Get moving," the biker said gruffly. "We can't hang about here all day, waiting for you two to sort out any tiffs you might have. We gotta get you back to base,"

"Base? -what-what are you talking about?" Lightning was struggling against the push of the bike; Chick could see the desperate scrambling of the rookies tires, trying to dig deep against the dirt. "I'm not going to any base! You can't make me!"

"Is that so-"

"He really can't," Chick interjected cooly. And both bikers and Lightning all blinked to Chick. "He's busted his engine. I had a quick look earlier. He's not movin anywhere, boys." despite everything, Chick allowed himself a smug smile. He liked to see all expressions of interest directed at him, and him only at the best of times. And the worst, so it seemed.

"Well that's a shame," one biker said in a plastically concerned voice. He turned a nasty face back to Lightning. "Guess we'll be pushing you the whole way then, won't we?"

Lightning's eyes widened, and he looked reviled. "I won't have you...you weirdo's pushing me to whatever place you're planning on taking me!"

The rookie was panicking ridiculously, and Chick felt it appropriate to interrupt; "Look at it this way, McQueen. We can't get-"

"You," Lightning was glaring at him now, "if you'd have just stopped and helped we might have got away from these guys...I coulda been at the Piston Cup now! But you had to go and be a total jerk, and leave me...and now...you planned all of this, didn't you?"

Chick opened to his mouth to argue, but at the same time was hit by an extraordinary explosion of white hot pain in his left side.

He turned, feeling dizzy, to see one of the biker's panting, but he was grinning as he did. And then Chick strained his eyes to his side and saw a nasty, great dent pressed into him; thick smoke accompanying it.

For a moment he was furious at himself for not being more guarded around these bikers. But upon catching Lightning McQueen's recoiled and horror-stricken face, he was a thousand times more furious at the rookie.

And before he passed out, he blamed everything that had led up to this agonising pain on Lightning McQueen.

888

Lightning was stunned, frozen to the spot.

Not that he could really move much anyway. The terrible biker pushing his behind more than made that slight disability clear. But still, he could only stare as Chick was dragged alongside him by the other burly biker; the green car trailing dark smoke from his innards and quite unconscious of their predicament, for the time being at least.

Well, Lightning had thought bitterly. It at least confirmed that Chick had nothing at all to do with their car napping.

Though he'd known that all along really, hadn't he?

As they were pushed along, in cold silence, Lightning kept his gaze ahead, not wanting to look at Chick whilst he was like this. It made him feel uncomfortable. And bad.

"Why'd you do that?" he demanded finally, breaking the dire atmosphere about him.

One of the biker's laughed; "to prove a point,"

"Well...you coulda-you might have hurt him," Lightning stammered, and wondered why he even cared.

Well, he didn't, really. He was just making a moral point.

Yes, a moral point. A point about morals. Lightning assured himself. And again avoided looking at the battered Chick.

"Oh, boo hoo." the other biker jeered.

Lightning pulled a face, but decided he wouldn't bait them. Besides, he was still quite busy trying to arrange his guilt in his head, never mind focus on any anger that might have betrayed him.

Well, it was still Chick, after all. And Chick was a jerk.

Lightning wasn't much comforted by this, no matter how true it might have been. The rest of the journey seemed to take forever, and Lightning found himself beginning to fall into sleep before they abruptly reached their mystery destination.

"We're here," one of the biker's announced, triumphant. And he released a nosing grip on Lightning's rear with a sharp thump. Lightning winced and grumbled, before focussing anxious eyes on the base he'd heard so little about.

It was a smallish garage, rundown and scattered with tumbleweed. There was a single gas station which looked like it might not have been used for years. Despite this, Lighting was not reminded of the once rundown abandoned Wheel Well Motel near Radiator Springs. There it had looked like it had once been grand and then still full of promise.

This place, wherever this place was, held no such history as far as Lightning could tell. And it looked like it never would, either.

"Er, what is this place?" Lightning couldn't hide his fear.

"Our base," one biker said ominously, the one who still had a rear hold of Chick. He let go of the green car with unneeded sharpness, and Lightning winced once more as Chick's suspension creaked and whined tellingly.

Lightning supposed, in a weird way, it was good that Chick was out of it for all of this. Because for Lightning, the whole being-dragged-along-by-the-rear ranked as one of his most humiliating experiences. Ever.

He watched, guarded, as both bikers retreated quickly into the dimness of the solitary garage, disappearing from sight.

Lightning had had plenty of time to panic about everything for the past few hours, so he supposed he was just completely panicked out by this point, as he turned back to Chick.

As he had observed earlier, after their fight, Chick was a sorry sight indeed. And now with the added biker injury; a large indent in Chick's side, he looked even worse. And now, with nothing to distract him; no menacing looking bikes, anyway, Lightning took the time to feel bad.

It wasn't very nice. He'd only just gotten used to this whole "feeling bad" thing, after all. Ever since his stint in Radiator Springs, when he'd learned compassion and proper friendship in the forms of a rusty old tow truck and a gorgeous Porsche, he'd learnt to cast aside an over demanding ego and slow down a little bit.

Maybe understand others a little better.

Now, when he looked over Chick, this not unfamiliar but still fairly foreign emotion washing over him, Lightning thought maybe he could try to understand Chick a bit better. At least try to understand why his racing rival took such pleasure in being a first class jerk.

Then, as he was comprehending this pretty radical idea, Chick came to with a low, whimpering groan.

Lightning started forwards, maybe to help Chick, until he realised he was still hopelessly immobile. Instead he could only watch as Chick's eyes flickered open; and they looked glossy and shiny against the evening light.

"Hey, are you ok?"

Chick muttered, blinking at Lightning; "Fine. Never felt better, McQueen." the sarcasm was thin under an obviously pained voice.

"He got you in the side." Lightning said, feeling amazingly unhelpful. "I saw it. It was pretty nasty."

Chick shut an eye against the midday sun; his bruised eye, and then looked at Lightning through the better one with faint incredulity. "No kiddin', McQueen? You really think?" then he winced, and turned his gaze away from Lightning, toward the dingy looking station. "What...where are we?" he asked hoarsely, rising on his axles as far as his strength might allow.

Lightning looked bleakly ahead. "I have no idea." feeling amazingly unhelpful seemed to be a habit he was quickly forming these days.

"Those...those bikers? Did they bring us here?" Chick's dazed grogginess was quickly being replaced with outright anger.

"Yeah. Not like we could do much about it, though."

"Why not?"

Lightning was a little startled, but explained as helpfully as he could anyway; "Well, I don't think one unconscious car and another totally engine-bust car would be much of a match against those two." he shrugged his wings. "Just a presumption. You know."

Chick scowled. "Don't get smart with me, rookie."

"Hey, you're the one who led them to me!"

"You're the one whose engine bust!"

"Yeah? Well you're the one who bust it!"

"Oh boys, arguing again, are we?" a gravelly voice interrupted.

Both Lightning and Chick turned to face it, their sniping forgotten. There, stood before them casting a large shadow, was a truck, the truck which Lightning recalled had car-napped them in the first place. It was grinning nastily.

Hit with an anger far stronger than anything he currently felt for Chick, Lightning opened his mouth to shout some thoughtless obscenities, but was interrupted;

"You! You're the one who car-napped me! And stuck me with this jerk;" Chick gestured to Lightning, "and now I'm gonna be late for the Piston Cup. The last race of the season!"

Lightning resisted a roll of his eyes, and interjected; "this isn't just about the stupid cup, Chick!"

"Oh no?" Chick looked angry and unconvinced.

"Of course not! We could be in real danger here!"

"Enough," the powerful voice of the strange truck was enough to quash a newly forming argument between the two race cars. The truck was looking between them with a vague interest. Then his grin rested on Chick. "You're friend is right-"

Chick scowled. "He's not my friend!"

"-and," the truck continued, regardless, "you really should consider yourself in danger. Though of course I've seen to it that no-one knows of your whereabouts. Not even those cars you ran into earlier. My biker friends are seeing to that right at this moment."

"What...what are you sayin'?" Chick frowned, as though trying to ward off an intense headache. "None of this makes any sense. Why are you car-napping us?"

"Inquisitive though you are, I don't think it's really any of your business to know," the truck smirked. "Of course, I had expected you both to scarper, which is why I only hire the best, the fastest. You might have noticed my biker's are both very fast."

Lightning snorted. "We out ran them easily." he thought he did a good job of sounding supremely confident, despite a trembling undercarriage.

"Maybe," the truck was still smirking, "But you seem to have picked up a few nasty injuries along the way. Are you saying these were not a result of my bikers?"

"No...we..." suddenly Lightning felt embarrassed. And idiotic.

"We got into a fight," Chick finished, quite unexpectedly. He was eyeing Lightning oddly. "We got into a fight with your bikers. And the rookie bust his engine."

"I...oh..." Lightning wanted to be confused. Wondering why Chick had chosen to disregard their earlier fight. He blinked up at the expectant truck; "Uh, yeah. That's right. They bust my engine. And Chick was knocked out like a light." he ventured a smug gaze at Chick, but the green car was now looking at the truck with stern apprehension.

The truck seemed to mull over their explanation. "Ok. I see. My biker's certainly know how to get you wear it hurts." then for some reason he looked a little annoyed. "Right, you're getting in the garage. And resistance is most certainly impossible."

Chick seemed to want to contend the idea, as he started his engine; but it only gave a frightened whimper before puttering out.

"As I thought," the truck looked pleased, and Lightning hated him.

"So what do you plan on doing with us?" he asked, as the truck, large as he was, was able to push both of the race cars to the garage entrance at the same time.

"Like I just told your friend here, it's not any of your business, Mr 95." and Lightning was shoved ungracefully into the dark garage. Chick followed; flinching as his suspension reacted poorly to the impact of tires on ground.

"Nice to know," Lightning called into the blackness as the garage door was swung shut.

Engulfed in the dark, Lightning felt frightened all over again. As he had when he'd first found himself in the strangers truck that morning, alone with Chick.

Remembering the other car, Lightning squinting against the darkness and tried to catch the outline of the green car sat a bare metre away from him.

"Hey, Chick?"

"What?" Lightning couldn't catch Chick's expression, but he sounded quiet and dispirited.

"Hey, uh, listen," awkwardness hung about Lightning, apparently torturing him into a flustered mess, "I, uh, I'm, I'm sorry about before. You know, with the blaming you...and all that. When it wasn't, I mean, I don't think it was you anymore."

Also a verbally incapable mess.

"Nice to know, McQueen." Chick's scathing response shocked Lightning back onto the defence-

"Hey, listen. I'm trying to apologise, here!"

"Good for you," Chick said, and Lightning could imagine the sneer through the darkness. "It must be so difficult for you, too."

Lightning was confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean having to apologise to _me_. After all that time spent in Radiator Stinks, suddenly you're all moral and wonderful. I guess that silly Porsche and her hill billy friends really trained you well, huh? How to be polite and nice."

"I'm...I'm just apologising!" Lightning snapped, disbelieving. "And I want to apologise! I didn't get trained, you idiot! It's just the right thing to do! Sally and Mater stopped me from becoming a total idiot. They stopped me from becoming like you!"

Despite the darkness, Lightning could almost see the stunned silent expression on Chick's face. And for that, he was almost glad they were sat in darkness after all.

He lowered his eyes to the ground, realising he was breathing heavily. Then he heard a low creak of metal, nearer to him than he had expected.

Lightning shut his eyes, almost expecting, dreading, some violent confrontation.

So he was sort of surprised when Chick spoke, in a short and very weakly sarcastic voice;

" tell me how you really feel, McQueen."

Lightning blinked up, and Chick was rolling away, into a dark corner of the garage.

8

It was quiet throughout the night. Lightning had not ventured any further conversation with Chick, and he didn't really expect the green car would respond anyway. So he spent the night in tormented thought; wondering about their predicament, but mostly awkwardly aware of the other car sat not too far away from him in sullen silence.

Lightning regretted what he had said.

Maybe, as a harsh morning light swam into the opening garage doors that morning, he had regretted too late.

Because stood before him, all with equally menacing faces, were the two bikers and the great, hulking truck.

"Time to get down to business, boys."

888


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Chick did not feel well. Not that it was any surprise, but the deep blackness of the garage he was currently incarcerated in, along with his most hated race car rival ever, were not really helping matters.

His side, which had been attacked by one of those lousy bikers, stung terribly, and he knew he'd suffered some dreaded internal damage. That wasn't McQueen's fault, technically. But everything else definitely was.

It was a good game, childish, probably, but still a good game. Trying to figure how many terrible things Lightning McQueen was responsible for. And also, it helped him to forget stuff the insolent little rookie had said about him.

He wasn't exactly sure why the upstart rookie's words had got to him, either.

"Sally and Mater stopped me from becoming a total idiot. They stopped me from becoming like you!"

He wasn't an idiot, Chick would defend to himself with lots of ferocity. McQueen was the idiot.

And...what was wrong with becoming like him, anyway?

Chick wondered why Lightning had the insignificant cheek to not want to be like him. And then he'd wonder why he was even bothered, anyway.

He frowned, feeling, against his will, upset.

He turned against the corner of the garage and closed his eyes. He wasn't tired though. And was much too aware of McQueen's presence to relax very much.

He chanced a glance through the darkness, and saw the rookies dark outline, turned away from him. He could also make out the flashy 95 struck across the cars side; marred by scratched paintwork.

Chick blinked away, and tried to focus on something else.

It was then that he noticed the jangling apparatus hanging above him; all over the ceiling. It was metal, Chick could definitely see that; it glinted dimly as it turned every now and then, like some ominous and adventurous decor.

Chick didn't like the look of it.

He moved a little forwards, hoping he might get a better look , but his groaning engine told him it was best to just stay put.

He sighed his agitation, looked once more over at McQueen and then turned away again.

888

The light cast out before Lightning and Chick was a welcoming shock against them; presenting maybe a prospect of escape. Or at least some answers.

As Lightning looked over the leering truck and his two lackey bikes, he thought maybe such ideas were not too dissimilar to wishful thinking.

Still, a little optimism never hurt anyone.

"Er, hey guys."

The truck, who Lightning now thought much bigger than he remembered from yesterday, smiled darkly.

"Hello, 95. 86." he nodded between the two cars.

Lightning looked sideways at Chick, and to his vague annoyance the green car looked less than terrified of their situation. In fact he looked almost detached from the scene. He was instead peering with strange interest above him. At the garage roof.

Typical. Lightning snorted to himself. Trust Chick to act the indifferent jerk, whilst he played the part of whimpering wreck.

"Erm," Lightning cast around, trying to swallow his nerves. "So, what you guys got planned, huh? Something nice, I hope?"

At this the trucks leer seemed to twist into ugly amusement. "Yeah, something nice. Something like that."

At his side, the two bikers laughed.

Lightning, for the second time, turned an anxious look to Chick. But again, it seemed Chick had taken to playing the idiotically indifferent sidekick. However, the green car did catch Lightning's look, and he offered him a bored glance.

Inwardly, Lightning screamed his exasperation. Was he the only one who actually cared about their ominous-very-scary-car-napping?

Chick spoke; "well boys, this has all been a blast and everything. But I'm kinda on a schedule here. Piston cup, fan-adoration and all that."

Lightning stared at Chick, wondering whether the green car even recognised such a sensible trait as sanity. Probably not.

"You boys won't be going anywhere near that Piston cup, I'm afraid." the truck said, looking mockingly apologetic. "We have..other uses for you."

Lightning's innards prickled with anxiety. And never before had he felt so badly the indecent pain of being emptied of fuel, so hopelessly immobile. Well, except for that time in Radiator Springs when he'd been forced to mend the road...

He looked past the truck onto the horizon. It would have been so easy as well. He knew he could outpace those bikers, and the truck would be no problem at all.

"You won't get away with whatever you're planning on doing with us!" he yelled, finally too desperate to remain frozen with fright. "My crew...they'll know I'm missing. They'll come and find me in no time!"

"And yet they were stupid enough to let me car-nap you in the first place." the truck looked bored.

By Lightning's side, Chick scoffed, and for an insane moment Lightning thought maybe Chick was going to back him up on something;

"Use your brain, McQueen. Your pitiful pit crew couldn't even keep you safe from hill billy land."

Lightning snarled at Chick; "don't call my crew! They're my friends!"

"Oh, whoopee." Chick rolled his eyes. "So you've got stupid friends. I wouldn't brag."

"Well, what about your crew?" Suddenly he was far to angry with the annoying, hateful green car at his side to spare any thought for the threat of anything in front of them. "Your crew probably don't care about you, they probably hoped you got car-napped! Maybe they planned the whole thing, behind your back."

Chick glared, and his voice lowered; "you don't know what you're talking about, McQueen."

As both the race cars stared at each other; both apparently stuck in their own little world of petty rivalry, a voice cleared, and the truck began to speak;

"Listen to me, you two..."

But then he was interrupted by a loud roar of noise.

Lightning looked up to the sound, at first thinking it was thunder rolling above them; but the sky was clear, and the sound was too contained for that. Then, as Lightning squinted into the distance, he noticed three dark objects hovering through the sky. Helicopters!

It seemed everyone else had noticed them too; as the truck suddenly veered round, his engine screaming sharply as he barked to the two bikers;

"Get the garage door shut up! Quickly!"

"Hey...what..." Lightning watched, mouth a little ajar, as the bikers went about lowering the garage door, drowning out the morning light and placing them back into a faint gloom.

"Hey!" Chick yelled, but moved forwards too late. The garage door was sealed shut, as were any chances of getting their voices known to the outside. He growled angry exasperation, reversing back rapidly and almost crashing into the wall.

"Hey," Lightning said dully, then wasn't sure what he had planned to say anyway.

Well. It wasn't like he was going to comfort Chick.

Instead, he rolled his eyes to the ground and sighed. "What have those creeps got planned with us, anyway?"

"Are you kiddin' me, McQueen?"

Lightning was shocked at the fury contained in Chick's voice. "What?" he said irately. "I'm just wonderin'. Whatever they've got planned, it doesn't sound very nice."

At this Chick laughed harshly, and kept a nasty glare on Lightning. "Definitely not very nice, McQueen. Definitely not very nice."

"You don't need to patronise me, Chick." Lightning already felt stupid enough.

"I'm not, of course I'm not." even as he spoke Chick could not hide a sneer. "I know it takes a while for your brain to catch up,"

"What's your problem, Chick?" Lightning snapped.

"Look, don't you see?" Chick was incredulous. "Doesn't any of this add up to you? Or don't you use your eyes as well as your brain?"

"Wha...what do you mean?" cold fear was beginning to shiver up Lightning's hood when he looked at Chick now. "What are you talking about?"

"Look up!"

Lightning did. Above him were a glitter of metallic objects; which might have looked pretty against the soft glow of morning light that ran through the roof, if not for what they were.

Engines. Parts of engines. All sorts of innards which Lightning had never seen before. Because before he'd never been able to. Never had to. These things...they belonged inside of you. Not dangling on display like some crude, sick joke.

And Lightning certainly did feel sick. He swallowed down his nausea and looked at Chick weakly.

"What...what is this place?"

"I don't know," Chick looked grim as he rolled slowly about the garage, "But one things for sure, it's not your everyday friendly mechanics."

8

Lightning watched Chick, but wasn't really watching him. His eyes felt glazed and his brain felt incoherent with silent panic. Not too long ago, although now it felt many ages ago, he recalled Chick saying something about gut ripping...gut ripping criminals...

Shuddering, Lightning blinked, finally looking at Chick properly. The green car seemed, bizarrely, quite collected, despite everything. He was rolling slowly about the garage, his eyes set, concentrated.

"Chick," Lightning heard himself speak, and hated how pathetic he sounded.

"-quiet, McQueen." Chick interrupted. "I'm thinkin'."

Lightning raised his windshields.

Chick thinking? Small wonders seemed to come about every day, then.

"And what exactly have you got planned? In case you'd forgotten, we're both pretty bust up. We can't move." despite the terrifying realisation of this, Lightning felt a little quelled when he looked at Chick now.

He couldn't help that intense irritation for Chick Hicks somehow outranked the idea of being gutted up by big scary trucks and smaller but equally scary bikers.

Now Chick was eyeing him, and unless Lightning had gone temporarily insane; resulting in mild hallucinations, he could swear that Chick was grinning.

He needed to confirm, or at least shoot down this insane observation: "What?"

"You might not be able to move. But I can."

And Lightning watched as Chick's meandering rolling about the garage slowly morphed into a growling engine.

It didn't sound very healthy. In fact it sounded incredibly unhealthy; and Lightning observed with an inward wince as Chick's entire body trembled and whimpered against the strain of his revving.

But Chick looked triumphant.

"You see, this is why you younger models are so pathetic," he stated, still grinning. "You just ain't got the endurance, have you?"

"Can I help that I'm not exactly accustomed to regular car fights or freak car-napping occurrences?" Lighting commented, not wanting to be impressed by Chick at all.

He watched disdainfully as Chick veered about the garage a little quicker. The garage itself was quite roomy; because it was so bare, save the hideous mess hanging above them, of course.

Chick laughed callously, siding up to Lightning with a taunting nudge in the side; "Hey, no hard feelings, McQueen. I'm sure you'll come to terms with your weak little engine some day."

He winked, and Lightning had to fight to steel his temper. "Well, I'm absolutely ecstatic that you're perfectly mobile, Chick," he said with all the enthusiasm of a car wanting to place himself in the path of a manic train, "but there is the tiny detail of how you plan to escape, isn't there?"

At this, Chick's grin faded a little bit, but his eyes remained annoyingly defiant.

"A tiny detail," he said, echoing Lightning's words. He moved away from Lightning to the front of the garage and then said; "those helicopters, no doubt they've been put out on a search warrant. To find us."

Lightning conceded with a nod. He supposed he could grant Chick that.

"And," Chick continued, "that truck and his crony bikes are probably doing their best to keep the 'copters away from here. Away from us."

"Yeah," Lightning agreed guardedly. "So?"

"So," Chick mimicked, rolling his eyes, "McQueen, do you ever miss not having a brain? Listen, you stupid rookie. While they're busy with the copters, we can escape."

"Great idea, genius," Lightning snorted. "But you seem to forget we're in a garage. You know, the one we're sitting in right now? The one with the horrible guts dangling above us?"

Chick was shaking his head, "Clearly I overestimated you, McQueen. Which is an overestimate in itself. Cos I never really thought much of you anyway."

"Get to the point, Chick," Lightning could feel his temper fraying dangerously.

Chick's grin had melted into an unruly smirk. And he was looking at the back of the garage with flashing inspiration. Lightning followed his gaze, and for the first time noticed the door.

It was old and rotting; it's hinges were rusty, and though it was clearly locked, Lightning knew it wouldn't take much to knock it down.

A vaguely manic green car would be more than enough for that.

He looked back at Chick, whose face was a mask of determination.

"The door? That's your plan?" Lightning couldn't help it. He was not exactly blown away by the radical thinking in this idea.

Chick seemed to catch Lightning skepticism. "Do you have any better ideas, rookie?"

Lightning frowned, knowing he was miserably beaten there. "No," he said sulkily.

"Thought as much." then Chick moved forwards suddenly, and before he knew it, Lightning found himself nose to nose with Chick. Chick was staring at his hood appraisingly.

"Chick...what...whatta you doing?" Lightning felt uncomfortable with the green car in such close and improper proximity. He could clearly see all of Chick's many stickers in great detail now, and the dark grazing about his quite badly broken bumper, a result of their earlier fight...

Chick looked impatient. "Are you going to open your bonnet, McQueen?"

Lightning was affronted: "What? No, no I'm not!" he pressed to reverse back, but then remembered he was still effectively as mobile as a concussed brick.

"Well," Chick was eyeing Lightning like he might be a petulant child.

Lightning didn't care. He felt perfectly justified. No car, not Chick, especially not Chick, was going to be prodding about his innards. It was embarrassing. The most degrading thing that could ever happen to him in front of his racing rival.

Still, Chick didn't seem to be looking at it that way. In fact, Lightning thought he might have detected a thin trace of concern on Chick's face as he looked at Lightning's bonnet.

But as quick as Lightning thought he might have seen that, Chick's expression quickly resolved into a scowl,

"Hell, McQueen. You're so weird." Chick reversed back, and Lightning felt himself relax a little. Not enough to disregard Chick's comment, though.

"I'm not weird. I'm just weirded out by you trying to help me, that's all."

"Why?" strangely, Chick seemed insulted.

"Why? Because it's you," Lightning said. "You wouldn't help me before...I mean, you left me!"

Chick seemed to bristle at the reminder; "That doesn't have anything to do with this, McQueen,"

"It has everything to do with this! You think after all that you've done and said before, I'm just suddenly gonna trust you to look at my insides and fix me up? And correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure you're no mechanic, Chick,"

"Oh right. I forgot. That's your wonderful Doc's job, isn't it?" Chick said sourly. "Well forget everything I said. You don't want me to help you, fine." the green car swerved away from Lightning, to face the garage backdoor once again.

There was a small silence, in which Lightning had a moment to take in Chick's sarcastic words. He also found, in that moment, he felt a bit sorry.

Lightning opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but his voice was cut off by Chick's engine, which revved into being.

Lightning watched with unspeakable apprehension as Chick's entire form trembled with want; as though he'd been starved of speed for so long, and soon it was all going to be released in one great explosion of power; and he'd go racing off into the distance, and probably not stop until his tires bust.

Looking at Chick's determined face now, Lightning was reminded of the green cars brutality on the track; how reckless and ruthless he was. But with the reminder, Lightning felt an odd sense of regard. He knew Chick was relentless, but he guessed, grudgingly, that it wasn't necessarily a bad thing to be.

Especially at times like this.

"So you're going to crash through the door?" Lightning breathed, not sure what he wanted Chick's answer to be.

"Yeah," and Chick looked excited by the prospect. His engine moved up a gear; and it sounded like a screeching mingling of protests and anticipation.

"Then what?" Lightning asked, having to yell a bit above the noise. "Are you going to come back? I can't move!"

Lightning's breath hitched and tightened the back of his throat when he said this. Would Chick even consider coming back for him? Feeling sick, he gave Chick a desperate look. "Chick?"

For a moment, Chick's face flashed from gruelling excitement into seriousness as he blinked at Lightning.

He hesitated quite significantly before he finally spoke;

"Yeah, I'll be back, McQueen."

And Lightning could only watch on, with irritating but now familiar feelings of uselessness and inadequacy, as Chick revved for a final time; then sped forwards into the door.

The crash was not as loud as Lightning had expected it to be. Maybe the door was much shabbier than he'd thought, but Chick cruised through with not a seconds slowing. And as he hurtled into the light he didn't stop either.

Lightning could only watch on as Chick disappeared onto the vastness before him; becoming a green speck which was painfully hard to see when the morning sun was shining so brightly in Lightning's eyes.

It was so infuriating, too.

The broken escape route was there for Lightning to take, and yet he could not even roll the few inches needed to meet it, never mind head off into the distance.

Then, as his whole dire predicament came into brutal focus, Lightning suddenly wondered what on earth he had been thinking.

Chick was gone. Chick Hicks. That jerk. Who hadn't thought twice about abandoning him once before.

"Yeah, I'll be back, McQueen."

Suddenly Chick's words seemed very bleak and improbable indeed.

So Lightning just stared out at the broken door, and hoped that the helicopters might find him yet.

8

Lightning knew he shouldn't have been too surprised when the truck returned not too long after Chick's escape.

Clearly he had heard the commotion; no matter how unexpectedly quiet and brief the crash had been, and now he seemed not so much angry...much more intrigued.

"Your friend made a daring escape," the truck was observing the broken door with strange admiration, "but I think it might prove a mistake,"

"What? Have you set your stupid bikes after him?" Lightning didn't see any reason, not anymore, to play nice with his car-napper. And he liked reserving his abject fear for complete rage, anyway.

The truck looked smug. "No. But he'll find himself meeting up with them very soon. You can count on that."

Lightning felt cold with renewed fear, yet he held his ground, remembering how defiant Chick had looked before he careened through the garage door. Now he hoped he looked half so determined.

"You know you won't get away with this. I...we know what you're up to!"

"You do, do you?"

"Yeah," Lightning tried to ignore the dangerous look in the trucks' eyes.

"Then I suppose you'll only be expecting this-"

Lightning heard a faint thump, and it took him a hazy second to realise he'd be knocked on the hood. He felt dizzy and immensely stupid for a couple of seconds more, before surrendering to blackness.

888


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

He thought he might be hallucinating.

Everything else that had happened to Lightning McQueen these last couple of days seemed like they might be an hallucination at least. Strange trappings in a truck, being chased by possibly psychotic bikers, almost taking fatalistic jumps over a gorge. And learning that your most hated race car competitor, and a well known jerk to boot; was actually sticking to his word.

But through dazed eyes, this was apparently what Lightning was seeing.

It was dark outside, although Lightning couldn't recall when nighttime had actually occurred. And peering out into the dark, through the still-broken garage door, he could see Chick moving toward him, at a steady pace. Like maybe he wasn't in a rush, but also wasn't keen on being too slow about whatever he was planning on doing, either.

As the car neared, Lightning vaguely realised that Chick was, quite simply, exhausted.

Lightning tried to move forwards, but remembered dully that he was unable to. It was about all he could remember. At least up to the point where he had been knocked out. Everything after that was hazy; though there was a distinct unrest about his bonnet. Like something inside of him had gone wrong.

He thought he should be concerned, but instead he felt far too sleepy.

Even as Chick finally reached him, he could feel his eyes drooping. He wanted to sleep. Sleep was needed. It was nice...

"Hey, rook! Rookie,"

Chick's sharp voice dragged some reluctant response from Lightning;

"Uh...what? What is it? Chick?" of course, he knew it was Chick. But he needed some proof that this wasn't just some elaborate hallucination, after all. As far as he knew, hallucinations didn't actually have the intelligence, nor even the ability to answer back to you.

Not that Lightning thought himself an expert on hallucinations, or anything.

"Chick? Is that you?" he mumbled again.

"Of course it's me, stupid." there was a nervous laugh in Chick's shockingly tired voice, but Lightning couldn't keep his eyes open long enough to bode the green cars reaction.

He muttered; "Oh...you came back,"

"Of course I did," Chick sounded like he might be scowling, "Jeez, what did they do to you, McQueen?"

Lightning felt a careful nudge against his side, but was still too sleepy to be bothered by it. And besides, he was still trying to comprehend the fact that Chick was actually here. And...and he'd come back.

"You came back." he repeated, feeling a bit feverish.

"Uh, yeah, you already said that." Chick said, sounding much more concerned than he did annoyed. "Listen, McQueen. Wake up. Look at me."

It was trying, but McQueen managed to open his eyes. He found himself nose to nose with Chick. Chick was looking at him through wide eyes, that seemed larger and pale against the moonlight. His mouth was set in apprehension.

Lightning, despite his dazed and confused state, knew that the sight of an unashamedly concerned Chick was actually a very shocking one. And it snapped him out of some of his daze.

He blinked, trying to focus.

"Chick...I...I'm sorry. I don't feel so good..."

"What did he do to you?" Chick asked.

"I...I don't know." Lightning squinted his eyes, trying to think properly. But still, his mind felt foggy and disorientated. "He...the truck. He knocked me out...I don't remember anything after that..."

"That's ok, you can tell me later, kid," Chick was speaking quickly, and Lightning watched through half closed eyes as the green car quickly backed around to his rear.

"Where- where have you been?" Lightning asked, through his dim consciousness. Feeling he owed Chick something in the way of a question. Anything to contend the groggy feeling that had enveloped him.

"I've been driving." Chick replied at once, "and I've found a station. It's pretty far off, I've not really checked it out, but I'm sure we can get there before daylight."

"Was nobody there, to get us help?" Lightning asked, trying to fight off the fuzziness in his brain.

"Not that I could see, but I think there's some fuel. So we'll be good for that." Chick said. He seemed anxious.

Lightning nodded, but didn't think Chick had seen it. He closed his eyes, then felt a sharp shove against his rear. It rolled him forwards and he blinked his eyes open.

"I-I'm moving." he stammered, looking at the ground in disbelief.

"Yeah, you are," Chick sounded slightly breathless yet amused. "You're some super car, McQueen."

Lightning knew it was sarcastic, but he also knew, in the back of his annoyingly disjointed mind, that Chick was offering a strange kind of comfort.

He thought he should probably be grateful for that.

"Are...are you pushing me the whole way?"

"Of course." Chick said, "how the hell else are we gonna get outta here?"

As they moved out of the garage onto the rough ground, Chick was able to pick up speed, and Lightning was slightly more alerted by the gentle wind falling against his windshield. He opened his eyes fully and felt his senses slowly, but surely beginning to return to him.

"Chick..." he muttered groggily, "where...where were you all that time?"

"Keep it down, McQueen," Chick said, and then added; "I told you. Trying to find us a stop-off. And I did."

"Oh." Lightning felt foolish, unsure of what to say. He also felt hideously embarrassed of his current situation. Now that his sleepiness was beginning to subside, the full mortification of what was happening to him was put into perspective.

Chick was pushing him along.

And though they might be travelling to safety, Lightning wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to cry.

"This must be pretty funny for you," he mumbled at last, knowing, and not caring, that he sounded childish.

"What?"

"You know, pushing me a long like this. When I'm all helpless and engine-less."

Chick snorted; "You think I'm enjoying hauling your rear end along, McQueen? I can't say it's the highlight of my life."

"Yeah, right," Lightning scoffed. "When we get back, you'll be spreading this around like anything. I know you, Chick. You'll milk it for all it's worth."

"Well, your constant whining isn't doing much to convince me otherwise, rookie." Chick was sounding increasingly cold. "And what else am I supposed to do? Did you want me to leave you?"

"Well, its what I expected!" Lightning snapped, and then felt all movement cease around him. It took him a few seconds to realise Chick had stopped pushing him.

"Why are you so cut up about this, McQueen?" Chick was half sneering as he rounded to face Lightning. "I'm doing you a favour, here."

"A...a favour? You..." Lightning could feel his anger deflating. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he blinked up to Chick, who looked unguarded and exposed against the moonlight. He suddenly recalled the brief shock of seeing Chick look anxious, concerned for him, back at the garage.

And he'd come back...

As the realisation dawned on him, Lightning voiced it, full of confusion; "You...why did you come back for me, anyway?"

Chick looked at Lightning, eyes flashed wide for a second before he composed his face into irritation. "Why not? I said I would, didn't I?"

"Yeah. You did."

There was a short silence, in which neither car did anything but stare at each other; their expressions quite unfathomable. Lightning was determined not to look too awkward about it.

"Anyway, I couldn't bear to go win the Piston Cup without seeing you lose," Chick said at last.

"That figures," Lightning said heavily. And then wondered if it was the reason after all. Suddenly he felt very tired. "I guess I'm just...just a little shaken up about things."

Chick raised a windshield. "Shaken up about what? What did that truck do with you?"

"I don't know," Lightning said, suddenly remembering the odd sensation puttering about his innards, under his bonnet. He felt a little sick. "Anyway, you took your time about everything, didn't you? Did it really take so long to find a station?"

Chick's eyes widened momentarily, then narrowed; "I figured it'd be safer to travel in darkness," he said coldly. "Sorry if that upsets any other brilliant rescue plans you had in mind."

"I-"

"Forget it, McQueen." Chick said, and then eyed Lightning more critically. "Seems to me they tampered with your engine. You had all the symptoms earlier. Drowsy, little stupid. Course, that's pretty much the norm with you, isn't it?"

"Funny." Lightning wasn't in the mood. He scowled; "And yeah, of course they tampered with my engine, genius. Otherwise I wouldn't be getting a tow-ride with you, would I?"

Lightning regretted his words when he caught the insulted look on Chick's face. "Hey, listen. I didn't mean that."

Chick didn't look convinced. He seemed to roll his eyes, but instead of turning full circle back to Lightning, they lingered up; at the dark sky.

Lightning took a deep breath- "look, I'm sorry. I'm just...really tired right now." he hesitated, then continued; " and... I'm sorry I doubted you. You said you'd come back. And you did. So...thanks. For that." he felt awkward, but dared to keep his glance on Chick anyway.

Chick was frowning. "You don't have to apologise, McQueen."

Lightning felt a little foolish. Chick seemed to be great at turning a vaguely meaningful moment into something very meaningless. He sighed as Chick manoeuvred forwards;

"We'd better get moving again. The sun'll be coming up soon, and we're not even half way there yet."

Lightning looked ahead of him bleakly; "just how far did you drive?"

"I don't know," Chick said passively. "But hauling you along slows it down a bit, y' know."

Lightning could not detect any malice in Chick's voice, only weariness, so he decided not to respond. Instead he watched with the remains of humiliation welling up inside of him as Chick turned to his rear, and pushed him once again.

The pace was very slow, Lightning realised. Now that he was completely back to his senses, things seemed harsh and brutal once more. It was all very well that Chick had come back for him, but they were not out of the woods, or the wilderness, so to speak, just yet.

Chick had been very vague about this stop-off station, having not even investigated it properly. Lightning wondered why he felt apprehensive about it, but was not so apprehensive as he was about being pushed along by Chick Hicks.

This certainly did rank as his most embarrassing moment ever. All past embarrassments forgotten.

Lightning closed his eyes tight for a brief moment, gritting his teeth.

"Hey, McQueen," Chick spoke up, sounding considerably brighter than Lightning felt. "How're you holding up?"

"Ok," Lightning said dismally.

Chick laughed, and Lightning gritted his teeth together harder.

"That's the spirit, McQueen."

"You're never gonna let me live this down, are you?"

"Ah, it's not so bad as all that," Chick sounded dismissive, and Lightning was happily surprised. "I'm sure they'll be much more interested in the whole car-napping than the whole being-pushed-along-by-me thing."

"Oh," Lightning groaned. "So you are going to gloat." and he wondered why he seemed to build up such tiny hopes on Chick Hick's with a bitter grimace.

"Only a little," Chick said as if this might be a great comfort. "Until I get bored."

Lightning smiled weakly. "Great,"

Chick laughed again; this time more openly and with no spite that Lightning could recognise. Despite himself, Lightning grinned.

"Well, at least we're shot of those freaks," he said, suddenly more grateful that he was in Chick's company after all.

"Well shot." Chick conceded, "and hopefully at the Piston Cup by this time tomorrow."

Lightning rolled his eyes, but laughed anyway; "that's all you ever think about, isn't it? Even in near death situations."

Chick snorted, sounding somewhere between amused and defensive. "You got it, kid."

"It's just a cup, you know." Lightning said, recalling the Docs-the Hudson Hornets' words with vivid recollection.

"Yeah, but it's the Piston cup." Chick's voice was full of enthused excitement, and Lightning was amused by it.

"Take away Piston, and it's just a cup."

"To you, maybe." Chick was not wavering. Which was what Lightning had expected. Chick was a stubborn guy, for sure.

"Well what is it to you?" Lightning asked, not just intrigued for the sake of boredom. He actually really was intrigued.

Chick didn't reply for a short moment; Lightning guessed he was thinking about it. When he eventually did answer, he sounded quite serious, and for some reason Lightning longed to see his expression;

"The Piston Cups the thing...you know. It's like the pinocle of every great race car. You get that, you know you're somethin' special."

Lightning didn't know what to say. Chick seemed to see it reason to continue talking;

"That's what my old man always said, anyway. He was a race nut. Just the same." there was a great fondness in his voice, like maybe he was daydreaming, dwelling on a childhood Lightning had no reason to know anything about.

As odd as it was, Lightning suddenly felt like he might be intruding on something. But maybe that was just because he'd never heard Chick talk like that before. And it sounded alien and weird to him.

"Um. So you were close with your dad, huh?" he had intruded before he could help himself.

Chick's reaction, although Lightning had half-expected it, still did not soften his disappointment.

"What's it to you, rookie? And why are we talkin' about this stuff? This ain't a getting to know you situation, you know."

"Fine." Lightning pursed his mouth. Chick could be so deftly harsh, so uncompromisingly defensive, it was a wonder anyone had ever gotten to know him. Properly.

Lightning saw himself mirrored in that in some respects. Because, even though he'd loath to admit it, he knew that Chick wasn't too far separated from himself. Especially before his entire stint in Radiator Springs. They'd both been single-minded, driven to the point of aloofness and careless to others. And all for the desire of a silly cup.

Difference was, Lightning wasn't really like that anymore. True, he could see where Chick was coming from, but only because he'd once been the same.

Not now though. But Chick was the same. And Lightning had a feeling that the green car wasn't one to change very easily.

Lightning chuckled to himself; imagining Chick being trapped in Radiator Springs, with Mater.

"What's the gag?" Chick sounded prickly, and maybe a bit tired.

"Nothing. Um, nothing." Lightning coughed back the rest of his giggles.

There was more silence between them, save the low rumble of Chick's engine as he pushed Lightning along.

It was weird and uncomfortable, but Lightning was finding it a little easier to ignore his embarrassment the more they travelled. And he was grateful that Chick considered sparking up light conversation, to detract from it as well;

"So. Did your folks want you to get into racing, huh?"

Lightning considered. He always had a well worn answer to this; it'd come up plenty of times in interviews. "Oh yeah. Well my dad did, anyway. My mom's always been a bit of a nervous wreck about it. Worried that I'll end up in some big crash." he smiled softly as he recalled her anxious face in his mind. "I'm always telling her not to worry though. I mean, I'm Lightning McQueen, right?" it was rhetorical. Lightning didn't expect Chick to agree very heartily after all.

"Right." Chick was definitely smirking. "I wish she could see you now, McQueen."

"She can't stand you, you know." Lightning replied, with a small sense of triumph.

"Really?" to Lightning's dismay, Chick sounded quite pleased.

"Yeah. She says you're a dirty cheat. And your tactics are lowdown." Lightning spoke with force, and hoped that Chick was getting the idea that everyone else thought that too.

Even if he was getting it, he was still sounding amazingly pleased with himself about it;

"Well. Everyone knows my reputation, rookie. It's great your mom knows me and all,"

Lightning knew Chick was winding him up; "You think it's great that everyone thinks of you as the dirty cheat?"

"Any publicity is good publicity, McQueen."

There was a knowing smugness in Chick's tone, and Lightning knew he was being baited. He wasn't going to fall for it though. For one thing, he wasn't going to stoop to such lows, but for another much more important thing; he was still feeling unwell, and simply did not have the energy for argument.

For all Chick's ignorance when it came to sensitivity, he seemed to catch this.

"You wanna call it quits for the night, McQueen?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah. Ok." but there wasn't much of the night left, Lightning realised as he gazed up at a purplish pink sky. Dawn would be here soon, and the two of them would be horribly exposed with it.

He thought of the garage, the truck and the bikers they'd left behind with a shudder, and then saw that they'd stopped moving. Chick had veered round to face him, and although it was dim, Lightning was quite shocked at just how tired the other race car looked.

Chick descended low to the ground, his suspension creaked tellingly. The only part of him which seemed to hold any sort of focus were his dark eyes, and he was looking at Lightning with intent.

"You better get some kip, rookie. Those bikers'll be looking for us."

"Aren't you going to sleep?" Lightning didn't bother to backtrack on the concern which etched his voice. "You look exhausted."

Chick shifted a little, and gave Lightning a testy smirk; "What do you expect? I've been hauling your rear end around all night, haven't I?"

Lightning snorted, but felt compelled to return Chick's smirk with his own. "I'll never forgive you if you spread that around, Chick. Seriously."

If he could visibly shrug, Chick probably would have; "what's to lose? We're already enemies, rookie. And I think it's pretty deserved revenge actually."

"For what?"

"For that bashing you gave me the other day,"

"You bashed me up too!"

Chick's grin was good humoured; "yeah, ok, I know. Sorry about that,"

Lightning blinked, shocked by such a casual apology from his racing rival. He might have questioned it, but the thumping ache in his bonnet sidetracked him, and he winced.

"You alright, McQueen?" Chick was giving him a critical look.

"Not really. I'm still all achey."

Chick rose on his axles, and looked like he might press forward, toward Lightning for a second, but then he slumped back down again, and just settled for looking awkward.

Lightning raised a windshield. "What? What is it?"

"Huh? Uh...nothing. Nothing." Chick said hurriedly, his eyes widened. If he didn't know better, Lightning would have thought he was embarrassed. "I was just thinking I might be able to see what's wrong. In your bonnet, I mean. But it's probably best leavin' it to the professionals."

Lightning wasn't sure what to say, but he was pretty sure Chick was referring back to the garage, when he'd suggested checking Lightning's bonnet then.

But still, it was alarming and yet nice that Chick was being so considerate. Perhaps more alarming than nice, actually, and Lightning wasn't sure what to make of it.

He was still weary of Chick, because acts in the recent past were just that. Recent. And Lightning couldn't honestly fathom why Chick had bothered coming back for him anyway.

He chanced a quick look at the green car. Chick had turned a little to the side and was looking in the direction they'd come; probably keeping an eye out for the truck and his biker cronies. He seemed guarded and spiky, and Lightning knew that Chick wouldn't take pressing questions very nicely when he was so anxious and tired.

He supposed he could save it for another time. It wasn't like they'd be parting ways anytime soon.

Instead he said;

"So, you never told me about your dad."

"Huh?" Chick's eyes fell back on Lightning, quizzical. "What?"

"Your dad. You never told me about it. Did he want you to get into racing?"

Chick looked like he might argue, but in the end, even he seemed to realise it was a petty thing to be doing. And he spoke with reluctant resignation;

"Yeah. My old man was a real go-getter. He was always tellin' me to be the best. That's how he got me into it." he paused, as thought observing a memory, "He'd get me practisin' everyday. On the dirt tracks."

Lightning nodded. A small part of his mind was realising that this was why Chick seemed to have an edge when it came to driving on the dirt, but the much bigger part of his mind, the part which could recognise a strange flicker of emotion on Chick's features, was surprised to understand that maybe racing hadn't all been Chick's idea in the first place.

"So your dad was the one who got you into it?"

"Uh-huh. I guess." Chick's nod was slight, petulant even. Whatever, he didn't seem interested in pursuing the subject. He gave Lightning a short glare; "and yours? I bet it was all your idea, right?" a vaguely knowing grin crossed his grille.

"Yeah. As far as I could remember, I always wanted to be a race car." Lightning smiled.

But Chick's own newfound, easy-going front was dissolving. "Yeah. Well you were lucky, rookie. I mean, when you're built like that." he raised a tire in way of gesturing to Lightning. "What else could you have been, really? A milk truck?"

The sarcasm and bitterness in Chick's voice was enough to pull Lightning out of his own feelings of vague comfort around his rival. Well. He knew it was too good to last. This nice-car act just didn't suit Chick Hicks at all.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked with exasperation.

"Nothing. Forget it." Chick snapped, and then turned away. "Go to sleep, McQueen. We're gonna set off again in an hour or so."

"Right," Lighting didn't bother to hide his resentment. Some small part of it was due to the fact that he was still pretty helpless, and was having to rely on Chick and whatever vague plan he might have in mind to get out of this mess.

But mostly he was just so tired.

He closed his eyes, but found himself not falling into instantaneous sleep. Instead he found himself wondering about fragments of conversation. Stuff which shouldn't really detract from direly needed sleep, but did anyway.

Why was Chick being so unpredictable? Unpredictably nasty, unpredictably nice. Lightning thought he could handle the nasty; that was what he generally thought of Chick, after all. But he was completely stumped when it came to the nice.

Because despite being an enigmatically annoying car, Chick had still rescued him from the garage, and pushed him all this way. He'd still saved him.

It was so confusing.

Eventually, Lightning was granted his sleep.

888

Chick's tires hurt the most. They had acquired this almost constant burning sensation, which sadly did not want to disappear even when he settled for just sitting there, doing nothing at all. Besides that, his engine felt odd and tender inside of him. He pushed it to the back of his mind, though. Like he'd been doing with most things just recently.

He hadn't dwelled too much on the garage, and whether or not the bikers might be after them right now. He hadn't dwelled much on his demented escape from the garage, or his mad race across the wasteland, until he'd reached a small, closed off station.

But now, in the quiet of very early morning, Chick was given all the time he didn't want to think about these things. And now he was having doubts.

The station he'd found; it'd been small and abandoned. Thinking about it now, he wasn't even sure there would be any fuel available for them, never mind a handy mechanic.

And if that was the case...

Chick didn't like to think of the consequences.

Not too far from him came a low murmur, and Chick turned his attention to the red car. Lightning was sleeping; but his face was fixed into anxiety.

Chick didn't blame him for that.

He'd been shocked at his own apparent concern for Lightning McQueen. And he knew he'd never felt such concern before. Not for anyone, and certainly not for a stupid, naive rookie.

But now he had, and with it he could recall vivid images of McQueen looking ill and hopeless in the garage, and Chick had been frightened for him. He still was, and maybe he was just trying to make himself feel better. Trying to amend for when he abandoned Lightning before and left him to the bikers.

Well, that had been a stupid plan, and heartless to boot. Chick would admit that now. Certainly not to Lightning. To hell with that. But he'd admit it begrudgingly to himself.

Because he'd never realised how unbearable guilt might be.

He let go a shuddering sigh, and sank low to the ground, taking care not to fall into complete sleep. He kept an eye on the distant horizon.

As the sun began to rise, the burning sensation in his tires became a little more tolerable.

888


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The rain fell hard and fast on the ground, and it was what pulled Lightning into consciousness. He'd been having a random dream about Sally; they were back at Radiator Springs and were just laughing together.

It was such a simple dream, but it reminded Lightning of home; and his current situation, which was so far away from it.

He blinked to his side, where Chick was sleeping. He must have been so tired; to sleep through this heavy downpour, anyway.

Lightning knew he should perhaps nudge the other car awake; like Chick had said, the sooner they get moving, the better.

"Hey," Lightning edged a little toward him, hesitated, then stuck a tire out to bump Chick's. "Hey, are you awake-"

"Huh? What?" Chick sprang upright, eyes wide and shining abject fear if only for a few seconds. When he noticed Lightning, who'd been granted some surprise himself at Chick's reaction, his eyes narrowed into hostility.

"McQueen. What're you playin' at? Trying to give me a heart attack or something?"

"Sorry, I just...I thought we'd better get moving soon, you know." Lightning did feel sorry for it. He could tell that Chick wasn't in the greatest condition. Certainly in no condition to be pushing Lightning along, anyway.

He gave Chick a look which teetered on sympathy. Maybe a little more uncertainty.

"Um...do you know how much further we gotta go? Till we reach that station? Not much longer, right?"

"The station?" Chick blinked, and looked like he was trying to dislodge sleepiness from his mind. "Oh. Um. Yeah. No worries, McQueen. We just gotta keep moving for a little longer. I'm pretty sure we'll be there soon. Damn., I shouldn't have dropped off like that."

He seemed preoccupied, it wasn't hard to notice. He glanced wearily about and then settled a soft glare on Lightning.

"It's raining,"

Lightning raised a windshield. "Yeah?"

Chick seemed to struggle to resist an exasperated sigh, "Well. We might be at an advantage. Or disadvantage."

"Because of the rain?"

"I don't know. But this dirt looks like it could get pretty muddy." Chick raised a tire in demonstration. It was already plastered in a coat of soggy dirt. "I'm not sure if bikers will be able to handle this too well."

Lightning peered down at his own tires, not sure whether to be encouraged. "Well. We could get stuck in it too."

The sparingly optimistic expression Chick had worn was quick to vanish into some sort of grimness. Lightning didn't like it, anyway. That look made him worry and feel sick. Like something bad was going to happen very soon.

Realisation, at the back of him mind, reminded him that he'd seen that look on Chick just the other day, when the green car had come to rescue him from the garage.

"Yeah, we might get stuck, rookie." Chick nodded a bit. "Chance we have to take, though."

Lightning swallowed down his fears and offered Chick a weak grin. "Yeah. But I think we'll be alright."

The rain was still spitting harshly on both their windshields, yet Lightning managed to see Chick's small grin through it anyway. It must have been contagious, or maybe it was the final threads of sanity breaking away, because Lightning returned the grin and let out something between a whimper and a laugh.

It was partly due to his injured motor; but mostly due to his terrible nerves.

Not for the first time, he contested that Chick probably had a heart of steel. Or some endless supply of optimism packed in his engine.

"Hey, we'll be at the station pretty soon. Then we can get you seen to, alright?" Chick said in a firm voice. He'd obviously caught Lightning's wince.

"Yeah, yeah," Lightning stared at the congealing ground beneath him. Honestly, how much longer did he have to be the hopelessly immobile lump, made glaringly more hopeless to Chick's apparently perfect mobility?

But that wasn't quite right, Lightning knew. And that was confirmed when Chick reversed backwards, toward Lightning's rear. His engine gave a creaking groan, and Chick groaned with it.

"Oh man." he mumbled. "That hurts."

"What is it?"

"Nothing. Just my tires. Or something."

Lightning couldn't see the tires through a now thick coat of mud, but he could gather that they'd probably come close to burning out more than a couple of times now. Lightning knew this because his own tires felt much the same.

On a weird level, he was glad that he didn't have to drive himself. It was probably incredibly sore...

"-it's incredibly sore," Chick said, as he began nudging Lightning forwards. "Man, I hope they have spare tires at that station,"

"Did you look?"

"Can't say I had much time to," there was slight sarcasm in Chick's voice. "I was kinda in a rush about it all,"

"Well did you see any mechanics? Anyone?"

"No one."

Lightning felt a bit frustrated. Or maybe he was feeling that to eliminate terror. "Well, there has to be someone there. I mean, it's a station, right? Someone's gotta own it."

"That's what we're hoping," Chick said. And a pause and then; "hey, you know what I'm really hoping they have?"

"What?"

"A phone line. Then I can call my crew chief and have them get me outta this place."

"Good plan," Lightning agreed quite heartily. Once more he was reminded of his dream; being back with Sally at Radiator Springs. It all felt a little hazy now, though.

He took his time about gathering the dream together in his head, and then wondering about Mac, Mater, Doc and everyone else who knew him, and what they might be doing. Because time felt torturous and slow when you were being pushed along like this.

And also, he was still a little weary about striking up proper conversation with Chick Hicks.

But eventually, the green car cleared his throat and sounded awkward as he spoke;

"So, um. McQueen. What did that truck do to you, anyway? D'you remember any of it?"

Lightning was surprised, not so much by the subject of conversation, but more by the unmistakable trace of concern which seemed to mingle in Chick's voice.

"Well, er. I can't remember much, to tell you the truth." he admitted. "You know, all I remember is him knocking me out. Then I remember...waking up and feeling weird. In my engine."

Chick didn't reply at once. It took Lightning a little while to realise the green car was gathering his strength in order to speak at all. Obviously casual conversation along with pushing a race car were not the greatest of friends.

This served to remind Lightning of his own uselessness. And his guilt.

"Hey, we can stop for a little rest if you like."

Lighting felt himself slowing a bit, but they didn't stop.

"Nah. It's ok, McQueen. We'll be there soon anyway."

Lightning couldn't help but notice that Chick had been saying we'll be there soon quite often this past hour or so.

How long was soon anyway?

He pondered the idea absently, so absent that he didn't notice the sludge congealing about his tires until Chick pointed it out with his own colourful language;

"Damn! We're getting stuck! Damned, cursed mud!" the green cars engine growled along with his temper, and Lightning attempted to pull his own motor into life, though it didn't do anything, as he'd expected anyway.

Chick halted and drove round to meet Lightning, "looks like you're stuck,"

If not for Chick's obviously contorted expression, Lightning would have thought the other car was going to abandon him again. Instead, Chick stayed where he was, looking somewhere between thoughtful and irritated.

"What do we do? Those bikers won't be long catching up to us." Lightning strained at his engine once more, even trying to squelch through the mud on unmoving tires. But it was no use.

"I could go on ahead. Get some help at the station and they could tow you the rest of the way,"

"What? No!" Lightning was aghast at the thought. "Please, don't leave me again, Chick! I swear, if you do-"

"You'll what?" Chick raised a windshield, "chase me down with your non-existent super-charged engine?"

"Not funny!"

"Wasn't trying to be," Chick stuck out his tongue, and then Lightning knew the green car wasn't trying to be spiteful at all. "Ok, ok. McQueen. Calm down. I'm not gonna up and abandon you. We'll just have to figure somethin' out, is all."

"Figure something out?" Lightning looked doubtfully ahead of them. The station, which Chick had been persistent in stating was not far away was still not in sight. Maybe Chick had just imagined it. Chick was the type of car who'd probably had one too many knocks on the hood along the way in his manic life. Enough knocks to call up too-good-to-be-true hallucinations, perhaps? Lightning wouldn't have been surprised.

And anyway, Lightning didn't think himself obliged to take Chick's word on anything just yet. Because there was still that annoying niggle. That annoying niggle simply being that this was Chick Hicks. And Chick Hicks was still that jerk. That jerk with far too many stickers.

"Why do you have all those stickers, anyway?" he wondered aloud. It probably sounded stupid and out of the blue.

Chick's double-take assured Lightning that it certainly was stupid and out of the blue.

"What the - ...what are you talking about, McQueen?"

"I don't know," it was a little too late to be embarrassed now. And besides, Lightning had almost ran dry of embarrassment in these past few hours, if such a thing was possible. "I was just wondering, why do you have all those stickers? What's wrong with just the one? Or two?"

Chick seemed to recover a little of his composure, and rolled his eyes; "because stickers are great advertisement? You should know that, McQueen."

"I know that. But isn't there such thing as over-advertising? To the point where it all looks a bit...cheap?"

"What are you saying?" Chick looked mildly offended. "Are you saying I'm cheap looking?"

Lightning smirked, despite himself; "How can I tell? You've got too many stickers on you to know."

Chick opened his mouth; like maybe he was going to launch vicious attack, but he must have caught the teasing glint in Lightning's eye, and clearly he wasn't one to be wound up so easily.

"Look, you're stupid." he said instead. "Very stupid, McQueen. So just shut up and stop being stupid."

"Ok." Lightning grinned broadly.

It was a little absurd. Very absurd actually. That Lightning should find solace in taunting his long time race rival. But here he was finding this very much the case. It reminded him of being back at the Piston Cup, on familiar ground. Because Chick was familiar. And he was used to petty arguments with Chick. Chick reminded him of being safe and back at home.

Oh. Then Lightning realised. He was trying to find comfort in Chick.

A few days ago it might have been a lost cause. But now, Lightning thought there might be some kind of potential there.

Because Chick was probably, shockingly, nice when he wanted to be.

Lightning watched with interest as Chick veered round to his side.

He could race off if he wanted to. Lightning knew that. But he wasn't; he was staying.

"I hate the mud." Chick remarked. And he sounded so much like a surly kid that Lightning almost laughed.

He fended the urge off though; "I'm not much of a fan either." he let himself sink a little lower into the mud and sighed; "I guess we're stuck waiting then, huh? Until some car finds us?"

"I guess." Chick scowled a bit. "Let's just hope we put enough distance between us and those bikers."

888

Chick thought it was all very alarming.

Not the fact that they were stuck fast in mud. Well, McQueen was. But the fact that McQueen seemed to have lost his brain. Or something disturbing like that.

Something about stickers... the insolent little rookie had been asking about his stickers. What was that all about?

It was strange, and also added to Chick's alarm, that he should suddenly feel a bit self-conscious about it all.

What was wrong with having lots of stickers, anyway? Didn't it just show what a great investment he was for all these sponsors? How confident they all were in his reputation as a race car?

Well...except for Dinoco.

But Dinoco did not count.

He frowned, not wanting to be reminded of that particular incident.

He worried a bit more about his stickers, and considered whether or not they did in fact make him look pretty cheap. Then he caught himself worrying about such a ridiculous thing.

Never mind Lightning losing his brain.

Who was the one worrying about his appearance as he sat tire deep in mud and quite unhinged about the bumper?

Yes, Chick was definitely losing his mind.

It wasn't a very consoling thought, and then he began to wonder about this station he'd found. About whether or not they'd actually been headed in the right direction. It hadn't helped that they'd been travelling during the night time. It had been so dark, and it had been the only time Chick would ever bemoan himself for being nothing more than a race car.

Because really, what good was a race car in pitch blackness, without the very necessary addition of headlights?

Not much, Chick decided miserably.

"You ok?"

Lightning's light voiced query pulled Chick out of his moping. He turned a reluctant look on the other race car, though actually he was quite glad that McQueen was talking to him. It was much preferable to the miserable thoughts currently sloshing about his mind.

"Yeah. Well, no, actually. I'm kinda wishing I had headlights. Like last night. That would have been really helpful. Us being in the dark, and all."

To his curious surprise, Lightning gave an empathetic nod. "Oh boy. I know what you mean."

Chick questioned the rookie with a frown.

"You know when I got lost in Radiator Springs?"

"Who doesn't know about it?" Chick feigned his boredom, but hoped Lightning would continue anyway.

"Well, before I got there I was stuck on the motorway. And man, it was scary." the red car visibly shuddered. "You get all these cars, normal cars, and they all have these headlights shining in your face. I didn't know where I was, where I was going. It was so scary. I though it was gonna crash for sure."

Chick might have taken this as his cue to taunt Lightning; seeing the fair amount of fright it seemed to bring upon the red car, just from recollecting it. But oddly, Chick felt no such desire, and McQueen's fear only served to heighten his own curiosity;

"So, how exactly did you wind up in hill billy land? Um, I mean Radiation Stinks. Er, Radiation Springs...Whatever that place is."

Lightning's disapproving frown was very fleeting, before he carried on; "Your guess is as good as mine. I just got lucky, I guess."

"Lucky?" Chick did not bother to hide his incredulity.

"Sure,"

"McQueen, you got stuck in a dead end station. With a load of loser cars. And they nearly cost you the Piston Cup final. How is that lucky?"

"Of course I was lucky, Chick. I met all my friends there. I mean, before I got lost...I was all...I didn't have any friends. Well sure, I had Mac. But that's only cos he was the only one who could stand me."

There was an infuriating, knowing look in Lightning's eyes as he spoke. Like maybe he thought he was that bit wiser than Chick. Which was all wrong anyway. Because Chick was the older car, and he was certainly a damn sight wiser.

But Chick let him carry on, wearing a sceptical face.

"And going there, to Radiator Springs, it showed me there was more to life than racing. Before that I was like...like..."

Lightning's eyes scattered about his surroundings for a short moment, before eventually falling on Chick.

"Like me." Chick finished. He couldn't help the strange bitterness which seemed to reign in his voice. "Say no more, McQueen. I think you've already made that point to me, anyway."

"Hey, no, that's not what I meant," Lightning tried to amend, looking aghast.

He really was trying, Chick could see.

"Chick, I didn't mean it like that. I didn't mean I think you're bad...cos I don't, really.."

McQueen was floundering about in his words, yet strangely Chick didn't feel half so vindicated as he probably should have done.

Instead, he just felt...hurt.

"Forget about it, McQueen," he shook his front briefly. "I know what you meant, and you're right. I'm a bad car. But hey, that's who I am. And I got a reputation to live up to, right?" he winked, and hoped it looked anything but half-hearted.

He'd most probably failed, since McQueen's face flashed uncertainty, and then;

"But don't you want friends?"

Chick prickled; "Friends? What are my crew for?"

"Chick. I know what crew are for. They're there to do a job and that's it. At least that's how I used to think of them. And you probably think the same. Am I right?"

Chick glowered at McQueen, but at the same time felt uncomfortable.

"Rookie, you'll never be right."

He reversed away from the red car and was a little pleased by the worried call;

"Hey, Chick? Where are you going?"

"Don't sweat it, McQueen. I'm not gonna leave your sorry lump of metal behind. Again." he turned and offered McQueen a smirk.

McQueen seemed abashed for some reason, his eyes fell to the floor. Chick wasn't sure why, and he really disliked himself for it, but this look made him, inexplicably, pity Lightning McQueen.

Just like he had done back at the garage.

"Hey, listen, McQueen." he drove forwards. "If you want me to look at your engine, it's not a problem." then he himself was all abashed.

"You know much about engines?" Lightning asked, sounding polite.

It gave Chick the courage to look the rookie in the eye without feeling his reputation might have been damaged; "well, I know a bit. My old man taught me some. Him being a racing freak and all."

Lightning didn't give away anything, but neither did he seem to protest the idea. So Chick moved forwards a little more.

"I won't be able to fix it, but I can probably give you a clue about what's up with it, alright?"

Lightning nodded quickly. He looked nervous and embarrassed. "Ok. But just be careful," he said in a meek voice.

Chick grinned a little, and then, with a motion he'd seen demonstrated plenty of times on race cars both on and off the track; and himself a few times, he nudged McQueen's bonnet open.

He was met with a thin stream of smoke and an unpleasant gastric smell which made him cough.

"That doesn't sound good." McQueen mumbled, behind his bonnet.

"Ah, just a little smoke, rookie," Chick dismissed, his eyes focussing through the fumes onto his components. "Nothin' wrong with a bit of smoke,"

"For maniacs like you, maybe," McQueen put in. And Chick let it slide, because he could hear the tremble in the rookies voice, and perhaps the ounce of truth which came with his words.

Because a bit of smoke had never bothered Chick much at all.

"Can you see the problem?"

"Um. No," Chick blinked back over Lightning's internal parts, where he plainly saw the motor. He didn't like to lie to McQueen, well, maybe in the past he would like to, but right now he felt a lie suited the situation just fine.

Because McQueen's innards looked a mess.

The smoke had dispersed to reveal a wild tangle of short circuits and damaged parts. And the motor was leaking quite a bit.

Chick was glad that McQueen's upturned bonnet hid his rather horrified expression.

"So, um. It's not that bad right?" McQueen sounded hopeful.

"Erm. Yeah. It's not too bad, kid." Chick spoke through a grimace. He was quick to close the bonnet, and then direct a weak smile on McQueen. "It'll be fine. Just a bit of loose wiring. We can get that fixed up at the station."

That wasn't a lie. Chick would console himself. Question was, how the hell were they going to get to that station now? And McQueen clearly needed it...

"Wow. Loose wiring, huh? That's a relief. I was thinking I was all busted up or something. It just feels all mixed up in there, you know? Maybe I was overreacting,"

"Maybe,"

Lightning looked up at Chick, and then his face softened; "hey, listen. Thanks. That wasn't so bad. You checking it for me, I mean."

Chick beared a smile; "no problem, rookie."

"Hey I wish you'd stop calling me that,"

"Calling you what, rookie?"

"That!"

"What!"

"That!"

Chick grinned fully; winding up McQueen just never got old. And seeing McQueen sway on the edge of his temper never got tiresome.

"Oh, you mean rookie, rookie?"

"Yes." McQueen's teeth were gritted. "I'm not a rookie anymore, remember."

"Compared to me you are,"

"Oh yeah," Lightning rolled his eyes. "by that logic the King would be calling you a rookie,"

Chick couldn't help but cringe at that name; the King. It brought back nasty memories, memories which he had hoped wouldn't leave such a bad feeling inside of him.

He supposed he could admit now though, thinking about the King...it made him feel...bad.

"I probably shouldn't have brought that up."

"Huh?" Chick blinked out of his faint reverie, images of the final race of the Piston Cup quickly rushing from his mind.

"I shouldn't have brought it up," Lightning repeated. "Reminding you of the crash and everything..."

"What makes you so sure I was thinking about that?" Chick glared at him. "and it doesn't bother me, anyway. I'm not all moral fibre like you, remember? I'm bad."

"No you're not,"

Chick was visibly surprised by the positive tone McQueen had took, and his surprising comment to boot. He thought he had good reason to be suspicious;

"What do you mean, rookie? Course I'm bad,"

"You can't be that bad, anyway."

Chick wished McQueen would wipe off his cocky knowing look. "How'd you work that out, rookie?" against what he would have liked, Chick was still interested in what McQueen had to say.

"Well, you came back for me, didn't you? You didn't have to. I think that's pretty good, don't you think?"

Chick knew, without even turning to face McQueen, that the other car was smirking that knowing smirk of his.

It was very sickening to imagine, never mind look at. So Chick settled for keeping his back turned.

It was probably just as well he did.

Or he would not have noticed the two bikers approaching in the near distance, at full and roaring speed.

Chick revved backwards with instinctual fright, almost colliding with Lightning's side as he did.

"This is...bad," he half-whispered, before turning his gaze wholly to McQueen. McQueen's bright eyes had widened with considerable terror, and he was pushing in vain to get out of the clots of mud.

It was no good. McQueen wasn't budging an inch, and Chick knew it.

He turned back to the horizon, and the bikers were becoming larger and larger.

"Chick! Chick where are you going?" Lightning cried.

Then Chick realised he was backing up again, away from McQueen.

"McQueen...I can't- I can't stop here! They'll catch us both!"

"But...but don't leave me!"

"I-I gotta get out of here!" Chick turned his gaze backwards.

The station...if he could make it...he could get help...someone had to be there, surely?

He turned a panicked look back to McQueen, but had no time to say any of this to the rookie. The bikers were almost on top of them.

Chick turned sharply and spared McQueen a firm look which was lost in his frightened voice; "I...I'll go and get help..."

Then he heard the bikers engines, drowning out his voice, and he didn't look back as he sped on. Away from McQueen.

Tearing along the wet ground, he could hear an engine close to him; one biker had obviously chosen to follow him. What could he blame them? He was an easy target now; almost out of fuel.

Then, almost like some hallowed gates of heaven, he saw the sign.

It looked different in a dim early morning light to what it had in the night, but it was there, nonetheless, and it read; "Fuel For You". Chick, if having the energy or the focus, might have given a great whoop of delight, but as he strained into the small station, he thought of nothing but McQueen, who was probably in great danger right now. Probably being carted off back to that garage...

"Hey! Hey is anyone here?" he yelled about the station, circling some of the gas chambers. "Anyone? Can anyone hear me?" his voice echoed about uselessly. It seemed, as Chick had feared, to be completely deserted. "C'mon! Is anyone alive in this dump or what?"

As he finished turning the final chamber he came face to face with the biker that had been following him. It was grinning triumphantly.

Chick wouldn't give it the satisfaction of his easy capture, though. He revved what was left of his poor, abused engine, and arched up a little more on his axles.

"Ok then. You wanna take me back to your creepy little garage, fine. But I gotta warn you, I won't be coming very quietly this time."

The biker seemed up to the challenge for a mere couple of seconds, until suddenly his face fell into what couldn't only be horror. Chick was rather pleased with himself; he hadn't known he might be so menacing, after all...Then he saw the bikers gaze was looking past him. Behind him...

Chick swallowed hard, his own face falling. He turned very slowly.

There, flanked at his sides, were three road cars whom Chick could recall vaguely from a couple of days ago.

He hadn't cared much for them then. In fact they'd been annoying and stupid.

Now he thought he might adore them, as they lurched forwards and began chasing the biker away, out of sight.

But watching them rev off, Chick was given little time to relax. He was quickly reminded of Lightning...and the other biker...

Pressing his accelerator down once more, Chick raced onto the tracks left by his brief saviours, and back to McQueen.

He got there in time to see the road cars chasing both bikers into the distance. But he didn't pay them much attention at all. As he neared Lightning's very still form, he gave him a gentle and shaky nudge.

"McQueen? Hey, McQueen? Wake up, kid...wake up,"

Lightning did not respond.

888

"I'm fine, honest I'm fine!"

"Yeah, well don't go doing that again, you little moron."

Chick was unsure about whether to be vastly annoyed; annoyed that he's let himself get so upset, or just very relieved. Relieved that Lightning was alright. And mobile to boot.

He watched as the younger race car wheeled experimentally around the station, a gradual grin spreading on his lips as his motor revved smoothly into being.

"Oh, baby. This is what I'm talking about,"

"You're still a little moron." Chick refused to be too relieved, at least outwardly, that Lightning was alright. "What did you think you were doing? Trying to take the biker on?"

"Hey, he's hard-core, man! Real hard core!"

Chick turned a patronising gaze to the road car stood a little way away from him. Still, he knew he shouldn't act too frosty round him, and the other two. They had, quite simply, saved both Chick's and McQueen's wheels.

"He's not hard core. Not at all." Chick decided, and once more turned to McQueen.

"Aw, come on, Chick. If I hadn't done something I would have been back at that garage now,"

Chick quirked a windshield, "So you thought you'd run out your engine until you almost self-combusted?"

"Hey," Lightning looked sheepish, "It worked out ok, didn't it?" he rolled round to meet the trio of road cars. "You guys did a great job fixing up my engine. It feels great."

"Hey, it's no problem. We're pretty clued up about these things," the army green coloured car grinned, "and anything for cool fighting cars like you,"

"We're not fighting cars," Chick reminded hastily. "We race. And we're supposed to be at the Piston Cup right now."

Lightning seemed to perk up at that; "Oh yeah. Do you guys know where there's a phone round here? We need to get in touch with our crew and let them know we're in one piece."

"More or less," Chick muttered, not bothering that McQueen caught it. He braced himself and spoke in a tight voice; "sorry to upset you, McQueen. But there ain't no phone lines here."

"Huh? What?" Lightning turned to the road cars, as though maybe Chick's statement wasn't true at all.

He was to be disappointed.

"Sorry, man. This is a pretty basic station. No phone line."

"But...but that's stupid." Lightning turned back to Chick, and Chick felt like he was being asked, albeit silently, to offer some kind of comfort;

"Sorry, rookie. While you were out of it getting fixed up I drove all round this place. There ain't no phoneline."

"Argh." Lightning bit his lip, frustrated. "What do we do? Keep driving?"

Chick snorted. "You can if you like, McQueen. Right now, I'm in desperate need of a top up."

He directed a demonstrative gaze to the nearby gas café. It was quite abandoned and very small, but there was fuel available apparently, and Chick was unashamedly gagging for it.

"Wow. You guys fight hard and party hard, huh?" the street cars followed them into the café.

"Not exactly," McQueen's grin was weak. "Hey Chick, shouldn't we be worrying about those bikers and that big truck? You know, the one that tried to gut me?"

"Take a time out, McQueen." Chick said, feeling much too tired to really argue his point.

McQueen didn't look very eager; "But, you know...what if they come back? With reinforcements?"

"We'll watch your backs, man," one of the streetcars said, raising a scrappy rimmed grin. "You won't be far from the interstate now, anyway."

Unsure of why he should do it, but feeling compelled to anyway, Chick gave McQueen an assuring grin; "see? These guys'll keep a look out for us. We're fine, rookie."

"Well. Ok."

McQueen joined Chick at the desolate café with little enthusiasm, and his eyes were wide with apparent paranoia.

Chick knew how he was feeling, only because he was feeling much the same.

He supposed he was just much better at hiding it.

888


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Lightning's engine thrummed with the unmistakable effects of gasohol.

He slurped on what he guessed might have been his fourth, maybe fifth can, and listened to the road car opposite him with what he hoped was an interested face.

The road car was army green and was apparently called Ricket. And flanked at his sides were a dirty brown road car, and a burnt reddish orange one. These were Lightning's saviours. And despite any previous misgivings Lightning might have had about them, he was currently deciding that they might be his Best Friends Ever.

"See," Ricket hiccuped, his eyes were lazy and clearly infused with gasohol. "We had to do a bunch of rewiring. Seems like that truck really messed about with you, there."

"Yeah, lucky there were spare parts lurking about the station," the reddish orange car said, who happened to be called something like Brick...Bricks...Something like that. Lightning couldn't really remember.

"So you had to fit me with a new engine?" Lightning had already been over this fact a couple of times now with the road cars, and at first he'd been quite horrified. His engine was his heart, more or less. Or at least his key to speed. His tool for racing, and winning the Piston Cup, which seemed something of a strange faded memory considering all the drama he'd recently been through.

"That's right," Ricket grinned. He had a friendly, easy-going face, and it sort of reminded Lightning of Mac.

Still, Lightning wasn't going to take any chances when it came to his own weariness; "and everything's ok now? I mean, my engines good as new, right?"

"Yes, he's already told you a million times, McQueen." Another voice, this quite callous and spiteful, and Lightning turned in the café booth to observe Chick, who'd also drank more than his fair amount of gasohol and was currently indulging in another.

Right now, in a state vaguely effected by gasohol, Lightning wasn't really sure what to make of Chick Hicks. Sure, the wayward green car had helped him, probably saved his life couple of times in the last day or two, but on the other hand, Chick was still an awful jerk who liked to point things out which were way beyond Lightning's control.

"You're a lightweight, McQueen." Chick smirked. Or more pointed out. And he rolled a little more into the booth, and joined in with the road cars good humoured laughter.

Lightning blinked at him; "Excuse me for not thinking it clever to get wasted when we're on the run from psychotic bikers."

Chick snorted. "I'm not wasted."

"And anyway," Lightning pressed on, "I just had surgery. Major surgery. I'm delicate and need to rest."

Chick rolled his eyes; "it wasn't half so major as you're making it out to be. You just had a new engine fitted. It happens to the best of us every few years or so."

"So," Lightning wasn't going to be deterred. "I also happened to have my insides gutted. Gutted. Can you imagine all the trauma I'm going to have cos of that?"

"You weren't gutted. You'd be dead if that was the case,"

Lightning bit his lip. He felt rather indignant. And now, when he caught the road cars all casting him snickering expressions, he wasn't sure he considered them his Best Friends Ever anymore.

More like Drunken Strangers In The Middle Of Nowhere.

"What's the deal with you guys, anyway?" he directed to Ricket, "When we were kidnapped, back with the truck, he sounded like he knew who you lot were,"

At this, the road cars sniggers slipped into silence. Ricket's face was rearranged into something solemn, and it really didn't suit him.

"We pretty much live in these rundown stations," he explained, "We're supposed to help out passing strangers, like yourselves," he nodded between Lightning and Chick, "but man. This place is so far out. It's pretty rare we get anybody at all. That's why you're lucky we managed to find you a spare engine,"

"And you're even luckier to have escaped from him," the orange-brown car, Brick, spoke in a soft voice.

Lightning was quick to notice that everything had become eerily quiet in the café, and all the road cars' faces had resolved into seriousness. Lightning turned a questioning gaze to Chick, who merely looked uncomfortable as he gulped on his gasohol.

Lightning turned back to Ricket; "What do you mean? The truck? The bikers?"

Ricket nodded, looking grim. "His names Dolpha," he spoke the name through a sour face. "He's been into the illegal trading for a pretty long time now, never been caught at it yet though. He's sly."

Lightning screwed up his eyes; "Illegal trading?"

Chick whistled an impatient sigh, "Car parts, McQueen. You know, like engines, and stuff."

"Oh." It dawned on Lightning, and he was too busy considering the implications of it all to feel too embarrassed about it. "But, why? Why has no one caught him at it?"

"There's no proof, simple as." Ricket said with annoyed flippancy. "What he does, I mean, with the bodies," his voice cracked a bit, "None of us know what he does with the bodies. And when cars come to the garage, inspecting and stuff, it all looks like any old garage. Nothing extraordinary about it."

"That's not true," Lightning clearly recalled the glittering and horrific sights of motors dangling above he and Chick, back at the garage. "We saw a load-"

"He claims to be an ex-mechanic," Ricket quickly interrupted. "That's his reason for having all those car parts. Course, nobody dare venture too far that way anyway. Cos of all the rumours."

"But they're not rumours, are they?" Lightning felt rather furious. "I mean, if he's getting away with this...kidnapping, murdering..." he felt sick, not sure how to finish up on his disgust. And fear.

He turned a wide eyed look to Chick. Chick, who was still slurping unenthusiastically on his gasohol and looked anything but perturbed by the grimness that had just come to light.

"Chick! What're we doing? Why are we just sitting here getting wasted?"

Chick gave him a bored glance; "I told you. I'm not wasted."

"Speak for yourself," Lightning was beginning to panic.

"Lightweight," Chick reminded, somewhere between a grin and a grimace.

Lightning frowned at him harshly, "Chick, we need to get out of here, now." he reversed out of the booth. "Those bikers, that truck...they'll be back at any moment..."

Chick's sigh was heavy, his patience testy; "McQueen, in case you didn't notice, we've been in this station for at least a day. And so far we've not seen any of those weirdo's. We're safe for now."

Ricket nodded his affirmation; "yeah, they won't try anything while you're here, with us. They're outnumbered, and they know we could outrace them."

Lightning's mind wasn't put to ease, instead, inexplicably, he was just getting more and more annoyed at Chick. Who seemed annoyingly complacent to their entire terrible situation. He turned on him with a scowl;

"So we just sit here and wait around? Getting wasted until we can't even drive in a straight line? Is that the plan? Wow. Ingenious. I wish I had half so many brains as you."

For a moment Chick's eyes widened; clearly he was insulted; but then his mouth set into a tight sneer.

"That's the plan for now, McQueen," he took another drink of his gasohol. "And anyway, we gotta wait till night time. Safer to travel in the dark. Take it or leave it."

Lightning was almost tempted to yell out an enraged leave it! And he was also quite tempted to deliver a clunking blow into Chick's side. But he staved himself off, and instead offered Chick a cool look.

"Ok. Fine."

Chick sort of grinned. "Fine." then he turned and nudged another can of gasohol in Lightening's direction.

"Drink up, rook. It's gonna be a long day,"

Lightning took it, and bleakly wondered why he bothered arguing with Chick anyway.

888

McQueen was drunk, there was no doubt about that.

And Chick thought it all very amusing, despite recent revelations.

It was quite weak willed of him, Chick would admit, that his only real plan up to this point was to dull harsh realities of possible death with the dangerous tonic which was gasohol. In the short term it was probably a masterful plan; because who cared much about anything when they were hammered out of their hood?

In the long term, this plan was quite pathetic. And it would only add a nasty hangover to their mounting problems.

But still. McQueen was very amusing when he was drunk. It was almost like he had ceased being that holier-than-thou flashy rookie, and had somehow become a bit more down to earth. A bit more fun.

Barriers could be broken. There was no acknowledgment of their racing rivalry, and conversation seemed much simpler. Easier.

"When I first went into the business, racing I mean, my mom nearly had a fit. And I was all like; no way, mom. I'm doing this, I don't care what you say,"

Lightning was speaking in quick determined tones, high on the laughter and general awe he was gathering around him, from the road cars.

Chick was humouring him too, and not just because he felt obliged to, either.

"McQueen, you talk like you've been in the business for years," his laugh felt genuine, but it didn't feel odd. Maybe because he himself was quite drunk now.

"I've been in the business long enough," Lightning said, his voice slurred a bit. His eyes were glittering.

"Yeah, alright. Rookie." and Chick felt good humoured too. Not his usual malicious intent when he called McQueen that.

"I'm not a rookie!"

"Whatever you say. Rookie."

McQueen gave a baleful wail, which was halfway between exasperation and amusement. Yes; McQueen was definitely drunk.

Chick smirked in his general direction, before he caught the sky outside. It was dimming fast; soon it would be night, and the acknowledgement sobered Chick a little, clenching his innards into a tangle of nerves.

Because they couldn't stay here forever. They'd have to get moving soon.

McQueen was laughing; and so were the road cars; who were all pretty wasted themselves. Chick felt himself grin along with them. It was hard not to. The road cars had been instrumental in helping them.

As he watched McQueen laugh, he recalled recent events in the back of his mind.

The road cars had fended off the bikers easily enough, and Chick had been left to wallow in feelings of shocking guilt and frightful concern, when he'd thought McQueen was dead.

Actually dead.

Now, in hindsight, he supposed McQueen hadn't been that badly damaged. There had been life signs; the faint vibration of an engine when Chick had tapped a tire gently against it, and then of course McQueen's nonsensical murmurs. Something about that Porsche Sally, and how he missed her...

And yet, Chick had been overcome with this strange emotion, concern. For no less than a second time in that day.

It was reasonable though. Chick wasn't cold hearted enough to be glad of another cars death, he knew that.

Yet at the same time he'd never expected himself to get all upset about it either.

That was rather disturbing. Almost like he'd betrayed part of his personality.

He glanced properly at McQueen, who was guzzling on yet another gasohol can.

He cleared his throat, trying to make his voice heard through the riotous laughter.

"Erm, rook,"

"Yeah?" McQueen offered him a placating gaze. His eyes were bright but quite unfocussed. Chick was almost startled by it, and failed to keep his train of thought. It was no good; Lightning McQueen was far too drunk anyway.

"Um. Never mind."

Lightning quirked a windshield, bemused.

Chick turned his gaze hastily to the floor. It was better like that, anyway. He shouldn't have to tell McQueen. Shouldn't have to tell him he was...he was...

...Sorry.

Lightning laughed much too loudly; "Chick! I think you've had a little too much of the old gasohol!"

The irony was not lost on any of the road cars; they all exploded into riotous laughter.

It wasn't lost on Chick either, but he could muster little more than a weak smile.

Ford, he'd been so close. So close to a vague apology. No, an actual apology. And if he couldn't do it now, when McQueen was out of his hood, when could he ever do it?

He pulled a face, and McQueen noticed it;

"What's wrong? Are you...Oh Ford, you're worried about the Piston Cup aren't you? About not getting there in time..."

Chick blinked at him.

"Um, well-"

"Seriously, Chick. You need to stop freaking out. I mean, it's just a cup," McQueen's face was arranged into amused sympathy. Chick found he couldn't be too irritated at him because of that.

"Easy for you to say, rookie," he said instead. "You with your tons of years left in the business. Not like you're in desperate need of the cup just yet, is it?"

He hadn't meant to sound bitter, but he supposed he did, since McQueen's face flashed into seriousness. Or some vague, drunken seriousness, at least.

"Aw, don't take it like that, Chick." and McQueen nudged a tire against his in some form of comfort. "You've got plenty of track time left. You're not old."

"You think?" Chick raised his unbattered windshield, sceptical.

There was a murmur of agreement from the road cars, and Chick was somehow touched by their confidence in him, especially considering his current less than desired condition.

"Yeah man. You're hardcore. Both of you are," Ricket said. "we'll be sure to cheer you both on at the Piston Cup."

Chick looked at McQueen, and the red car was smiling at him. It was a funny and off-kilter smile, since he was still wasted, but Chick was still inexplicably warmed by it.

"Huh," he turned his eyes the ground, a little embarrassed for some reason. "Well. Whatever you say, I'm not gettin' any younger."

The words his crew chief had said to him, just before their kidnapping, suddenly rang through with great clarity.

"There's a lot more hotshots out there these days, Chick. An' they''re gonna start wisin' up to your tricks. One of these days you're gonna be gettin' more than you bargained for. Get me?"

It seemed to hold more resonance than before, before all of this.

Maybe Chick really was getting too old...?

He shook his hood to himself. Clearly he was the victim of self-induced gasaholic wallowing. And when he'd sobered up none of this would matter anymore.

When he caught Lightning still smiling at him, he sort of wished that wasn't the case.

He quickly forced his face into a grin. Damned if he was going to fall victim to angst and self-pity. That was the job of misguided young race cars. Namely Lightning McQueen.

"Well, I doubt anyone would guess what age you are anyway, Chick." McQueen said with spirit, "I mean, all those stickers? It's hard to tell under all of that,"

"Will you ever let that go?"

"Nope,"

Chick had suspected not. But right now he didn't much care. He knew McQueen wasn't meanspirited anymore.

Pretty misguided, and definitely annoying. But not meanspirited.

And hadn't he known it all along? Since McQueen's stay at Radiator Springs, McQueen had been so much nicer.

It had annoyed Chick before. Still annoyed him to some extent. But in another way, he sort of appreciated it now. Or had accepted it.

He wasn't really sure. He also wasn't really sure why he was dwelling on what might make Lightning McQueen so admirable in the first place.

Hell, he was still his race car rival. And when it came down to it, he was still going to act the hellish race car on the track, whether McQueen got in his way or not.

Yes. He was certain of it.

He met McQueen with a challenging stare, to rekindle the strong rivalry he'd always felt with the other car in the past.

Strange then that it should bring about another feeling. A feeling of familiarity, like he might be looking at an old friend.

McQueen? Friend?

Clearly, he'd gone way over his drinking limit.

The fuzzy, empty throbbing about his head more or less confirmed it.

888

Lightning was unconsciously sure that he was going to regret this in the morning. As he gulped down his fourteenth...probably fifteenth can, he thought about calling it a night. But the road cars were still laughing, and everything just seemed much too trouble free to consider anything other than the present right now.

He'd been wrecked with nerves at first, and full of paranoia, but as the drinks had begun warming up his insides, he'd started to relax.

Chick was definitely a bad influence.

And apparently Chick's insides were built like a tank, or something absurdly vast like that, because he must have been on his twentieth can, and he'd yet to begin to slur over his words, and he was also acting as weird and alien as ever.

Lightning suspected that Chick always did enjoy a drink or two, he just struck him as the type.

Lightning on the other hand, was a lightweight, as had already been pointed out by the teasing road cars and Chick himself.

"I can still drive in a straight line!" he said with great insistence to the table.

Chick looked doubtful. "Really?"

"Of course! Watch," Lightning turned from the booth and out of the café. The air was cool, and whipped about him, slightly sobering his senses.

"Come on then, McQueen. Let's see you drive!"Chick was there; a faint jeer on his face.

Spurred on, Lightning pressed down his accelerator, and met the growl of his new engine with relish. He'd yet to test it out properly, and now that he did it hummed and whirred beautifully. He rushed round the careworn station at speed and for a moment imagined he was back on the circuit.

"Whoo-hoo!" he yelped to himself as he streaked round the disused fuel chambers. "It's McQueen-he's taking first place- neck and neck- yes, definitely first place- and he wins! The Piston cup is Lightning McQueen's!" he span round in rather delirious circles. "Yeah! Lightning McQueen is champion! He wins!"

"You said it was just a cup,"

Lightning came to an ungraceful juddering stop right in front of Chick. The green car was looking at him as though he might be a bit disturbed.

"Yeah, it is just a cup," Lightning amended. "Doesn't mean I don't want to win it, though," he gave a crafty grin.

Chick looked hesitant to respond to that. "Well," he said slowly, "Nice to see you've still got a bit of fight left in you. I was afraid Radiator St-er, Springs might have turned you into a complete sap."

"No way, Chick," Lightning shook his head with enthusiasm. Now he felt a bit breathless, and the swirling air around him was definitely clearing his head. "I told you, Chick. Radiator Springs was the best thing that ever happened to me,"

Chick rolled his eyes, "yeah, yeah. I know. It changed you. It turned you into a nice guy who likes to think about others and blah-blah-blah. Excuse me while I go throw up,"

"Well it's true! The place did change me!" Lightning reversed round a bit more, an unsettling sickness was beginning to slosh about his innards, and he was starting to regret his mad gait around the station.

"Do you miss your friends?" Chick sounded subdued. Lightning almost didn't hear him. The green car wasn't looking at him anymore, he'd turned away a bit, so Lightning couldn't catch his expression.

"Huh? Well, yeah, sure. I miss everyone. Mater, Mac, Sally..." he let out a small sigh, recalling the Porsche with sad want. "Yeah. I really miss them."

Chick shifted on his axles, and in that moment Lightning thought the green car looked very lonely.

The sickness creeping about his innards stopped him from thinking anymore on it though, and as dizziness swam to the front of his head, Lightning staggered on his tires and groaned.

Chick looked at him with very thin apprehension "McQueen, I think you might be drunk."

"Definitely not," Lightning said, but couldn't contain the hiccup which escaped him.

Again, he regretted his racing around the station.

But it was just great to be able to drive again. No more pitifully being hauled along, no more terrible humiliation...

For a clear moment he remembered, not just that Chick was stood before him, still looking rather unimpressed by Lightning's mad dash, but also remembering that Chick had helped him. Chick had been the one that hauled him along. And despite all that terrible humiliation...

Lightning was thankful.

He looked at Chick wholly. "Um. Hey. Thanks."

"Thanks?" Chick seemed confused.

"Yeah. You know. For dragging me along all that time. Couldn't have been too easy."

For a moment Chick looked stilled by the words. Then a small smile crept on his face. "You're right. It damn well wasn't easy, McQueen. I mean, I'm not being funny, but I think you might consider dieting. Just what kinda fuel they got you on in the Rust-Eze camp, anyway?"

"Hey!-" Then Lightning realised Chick was grinning, and it was impossible to stay angry at the other car. And anyway, his head was beginning to hurt, and his surroundings looked blurry, like some messed up scenic oil painting.

"Urgh." he grumbled. "I think I feel sick."

"No kidding," Chick backed up, looking a little horrified.

Lightning closed his eyes for a short second. The drink was rushing about him now. And oh Ford, he was already beginning to regret...

"Maybe I'll just go to sleep a little while,"

"Ok, but not out here, McQueen."

Lightning felt a nudge in his side, careful and not too insistent.

"Come on. Back in the café. You can have your hangover there. Where we can all laugh at you."

Lightning reluctantly pressed forwards, "not funny, Chick."

"No, but you're always good for a laugh, rookie."

Lightning rolled the rest of the way back into the café.

The day had been a blur; thoughts of a truck named Dolpha, and his lackey bikers, and their illegal and deadly trading; they all seemed so far away. Far enough not to worry about them anyway.

The only thing Lightning could think to worry about in that moment was the impending hangover he was certainly going to have in the morning.

888


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

The sky was dotted with stars and the moon was almost halved, casting a faint illumination over the small station beneath it.

Chick was most disorientated by the sight; he wasn't used to waking up to blackness when he was suffering a hangover. He shook his hood, and grimaced a bit at the scraping noise his bumper made on the ground. His head hurt, but it wasn't as though he couldn't handle hangovers, and he knew that by the time he was back on the road, accompanying a welcoming breeze, he'd be quite recovered.

No, he wasn't worried about that.

He blinked over to the red car, snoring lowly in a corner of the café, and then found himself grimacing all over again, for reasons entirely unrelated to his loose bumper.

What had he said to McQueen the other day? He dreaded to think; the very idea made his insides toss with heavy regret.

And he was supposed to be the responsible one, too. The older car. The car who clearly knew that getting wasted was definitely not the answer to their problems.

Hell, he knew enough about that...

A soft murmur, and Chick saw McQueen was waking up with a mixture of relief and horror.

They needed to get moving soon. Travel by night; that had been his vague and intoxicated plan yesterday. And despite his questionable judgement then, he still couldn't think of anything much more credible now.

"Urgh," McQueen's voice was crispy, and he fluttered his windshield a little bit, apparently trying to focus on something. Eventually his focus fell on Chick. "...Urgh," he repeated to the green car, quite unhelpfully. "I feel funny,"

Chick offered him a short scowl, unsympathetic. He'd sort of guessed that Lightning, being a lightweight drinker, would also be a terrible sufferer of the aftereffects. Inwardly Chick braced himself for the flood of moans and whines which would inevitably come his way. But then, who was Chick to blame the stupid rookie?

Because whose idea had it been pile in the gasohol, anyway?

Chick shook his hood again, wiping his mind of regrets. They could wait, and so could his terrible recollections of yesterday, when he'd been...he'd been amiable with one Lightning McQueen.

Chick shuddered.

Dear Ford, Gasohol had evil, frightening effects on a car, there was no doubt about that."..Chick," McQueen's voice was feeble. "My...my head hurts."

Chick rolled his eyes; "it's called a hangover, kid. Get used to it. And get your motor running. We gotta split."

McQueen fixed him with a glare, which probably would have been a lot more menacing if his eyes were a little more focussed. He rolled round to meet Chick. "Hey, who's genius idea was it to go drinking, anyway?"

Chick wasn't in the mood for guilt, even though it happened to be one of those annoying emotions which never really let you know when it was arriving. Guilt was rude like that; just barging into Chick's conscience, and telling him to feel bad about Lightning McQueen.

Who on earth did Guilt think it was, anyway?

It really wasn't on.

Letting go a small sigh, Chick managed a sympathetic look in McQueen's direction.

"Sorry, rookie. I guess I thought it'd make us feel better." he bit his lip, "see, I blame those road cars, they're a bad influence."

"No, you're the bad influence, Chick." McQueen's new motor slipped into gear, and the car had drove out of the café into the darkness before Chick could say another word.

Or at least an audible word.

"Whiny kid," he muttered to the room, and let his eyes rise somewhat hopelessly to the ceiling. If this entire predicament wasn't going to be the death of him...

"Hey, 86,"

"Huh? Oh, hey," Chick turned to face Ricket, the road car looked concerned. "What's up?"

"Your buddy out there, he's lookin' a bit fragile. Maybe he had one too many of the old gasohol?"

"You think? Not my problem." Chick half-snorted, returning a desperately interested gaze back to the ceiling. "That kids a rookie in more ways than one," he added, feeling quite nasty. And quite eager to be rid of that rude, inconsiderate guilt which still insisted on bothering his mind. Stupid guilt.

"Mm, hm." Ricket nodded, but his tone forced Chick to look at the road car. He sounded concerned, and unconvinced.

"What?"

Ricket hesitated, awkward. "Nothing. But ah, well. C'mon Chick, I know you've taken a liking to the rookie. Who can blame you? The kid's got spark,"

"What? Why would you say that?" Chick snapped,

"It's obvious, isn't it? I mean, what you did-"

Chick turned a scandalised face on the road car; "That doesn't mean anything!"

"But-"

"I don't like that little brat one little bit. In case you didn't notice; he's my rival, and he's a soft little mommy's boy who gets through life on a whim, just cos he looks the part. Whereas everyone else, all us normal guys, we gotta actually work for our place on the track. That amateur rookie's never worked a day in his life. He got built for speed, and that's that."

The rant ended with Chick's own breathless pants, and the deep silence of the café was only broken by a curt voice, cutting into Chick's mind like terrible realisation personified.

"Oh, that's what you think?"

Chick reversed round, almost clipping against a booth, to see McQueen staring at him; an expression somewhere between disbelief and anger vying to dominate his face.

Chick didn't know what to say; the deft uneasiness which seemed to smother the café in that moment, coupled with Ricket, who stood in awkward silence before them both, only made Chick wish there was a convenient Stop and Rewind button to fix this moment.

And it might have seemed such a bizarre regret to have, as well. Considering Chick had never thought twice about insulting Lightning McQueen in the past.

Caught in this awful moment, Chick didn't even consider how strange that was, though.

He only wished that McQueen hadn't heard him say that.

"..um..." he started, dumbly. Like a blind man trying to find a label which might have said the word "sorry" on it.

"Forget it, Chick." McQueen's voice was quiet yet frosty. "I'm just glad to know you're all back to normal."

Chick didn't think he sounded glad at all; "Hey, McQueen-"

"I'm moving outta here now," Lightning interrupted, and his eyes rested on Ricket. "Thanks for fixing me up. Give the other guys my thanks too." He turned sharply out of the café entrance, and started to melt into the darkness, before Chick really understood what had happened.

He turned to Ricket, who looked like he might be feeling sorry for Chick.

Chick hated that; "I meant what I said, you know."

The conviction was vehement in his voice, but even so, Ricket remained annoyingly sympathetic, and when he spoke he sounded soft and understanding;

"But why did you do what you did? At the station?"

"Cos I'm an idiot. Clearly." Chick made to exit the café, but he felt Ricket at his side. "What now?"

"Chick, what you did," Ricket's voice was pressed with apprehension. "You do know...you do know it'll be harder for you to keep up? Keep going, I mean?"

This time Chick couldn't help but turn and look properly at the road car, and with it he didn't bother to hide the fear which had probably descended on his face.

"I know," he said stiffly. And then turned away, to face the darkness set out before him.

He didn't want to think about that. He'd made a good point and effort not think about it, and be damned if he was going to start thinking about it now. And worry about it too

Because Chick Hick's did not worry.

"Just letting you know, man." Ricket sounded distant to Chick, even though he was still at his side.

Chick didn't worry. But neither did he ever usually regret. Or feel sorry about certain things. Or feel guilt.

Now things were mixed up. Messed up.

What he'd done...the thing which was trying to make him worry, he'd not even thought about it at the time. And he'd never given it a second thought afterwards either.

It had been necessary. There had been no other choice...Anyone else would have done it...

So why should he start dwelling on it now?

He pulled an agitated face at Ricket; "you needn't worry about me. It's that lousy excuse for a race car you should be thinking about."

Pressing forward, and revelling in the cool night air, Chick did not bother to say his goodbyes to the road car which had effectively rescued him and saved McQueen's life.

He was much too annoyed, and though he hated himself for it, was driven by that nagging guilt. It provided him with a mindful fuel, which spurred him onto catching up with McQueen, and at least knowing he was safe.

888

Lightning's head hurt, despite the cool wind and subdued tones of night around him. His insides were still sloshing with the heavy effects of gasohol, and he knew his mood had been somewhat dampened by his awful hangover.

Still, he made no apology for his storming off, on his own.

Chick's words still bounced about his mind, and as odd as it was, Lightning had been hurt by them.

He never thought, before, that Chick Hick's was even worth getting upset about. Not least because of any casual insults he might fling his way. Because Chick was just like that with everyone. It was common fact; jerk on the track, and jerk off it too.

It made Lightning wonder why he'd felt such disappointment, such upset when he'd heard Chick's rant. When he'd heard what the green car had always thought of him.

And hadn't he always known it, anyway?

He supposed he'd thought Chick might have changed a bit. He supposed he'd hoped that after everything, all the stuff they'd been through, the green car might have altered his attitude a little bit.

Lightning decided, well at least he wanted to decide, that it'd all been wishful thinking. And actually Chick was still a jerk and always would be.

But Chick had come back...He'd rescued Lightning from Dolpha...

And Lightning still recalled how uncommonly frightened Chick had looked, and tired too. Yet he'd still hauled Lightning who knew how many miles, and they had talked. And some of the talk had been...good.

They'd actually got along.

Remnants of last night returned to Lightning in little bits and pieces.

On recollection, he winced to himself, remembering some of the more embarrassing moments. Like hadn't he done a really terrible impression of Mater? And hadn't he demonstrated his trademark "Ker-Chow!" and accidentally let his bonnet fly up instead, for all jeering faces to see?

Lightning might have blushed at that, but then he remembered other things too. Things which hadn't been embarrassing, or so he thought, and had just been fun.

He remembered racing erratically round the abandoned station. He remembered talking to Chick. And Chick had been easy-going and friendly. And they'd laughed. Together, and not at the others expense. For a change.

It was in sharp and brutal contrast to the Chick he'd seen not too long ago. The Chick who had made nasty comments with unbridled anger in his voice. There was no mistaking it; Chick had meant what he said.

"Stupid jerk," Lightning mumbled to himself, and kept a furrowed gaze well ahead of him. He was driving at a low speed, for fear that his engine might alert certain psychotic bikers. But a more subconscious part of him supposed he wanted Chick to catch up, and maybe explain his jerkish attitude.

Also, he was still feeling very tender.

Stupid Chick and his stupid getting-completely-wasted idea.

"Hey,"

Lightning let his eyes roll, with intentional laziness, to glance at Chick. He knew the green car by his voice, and he wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of a surprised turn-around. He kept driving.

"Oh, you caught up, finally." he said.

"Um. Yeah."

Awkward. Good. He should be. Lighting was vaguely satisfied.

He felt a blocky shadow come up his left side, and then he saw Chick driving beside him, his eyes focussed just as stoically as Lightning's had been, on the distant horizon.

The silence was almost intolerable to Lightning, even the hum of their engines seemed to become suffocated behind it.

This wasn't right. Lightning had no idea why he was feeling awkward.

"Erm." Chick spoke again, and Lightning pretended to be concentrating on what lay ahead again.

There was a pregnant pause, as though maybe Chick was waiting for some sort of agreeable response from Lightning.

Screw that, Lightning thought venomously. He wanted Chick to wallow in this painful awkwardness a little longer.

And it seemed Chick didn't cope so well in awkwardness either;

"Hell, McQueen! I saved your rear back there, and now you're giving me the silent treatment? Real mature, rookie. Real mature!"

Lightning had not expected such an angry explosion, and he pulled on his brakes. Chick followed, and then the two of them were glaring at each other.

Lightning launched an attack; "Whose mature? You're the one who thought it'd be great if we all just got wasted! What kind of plan was that?"

"It wasn't like we could do much else back there! Did you want to travel in the day, when those crazy bikers and truck would be waiting for us?"

"I don't know! Anything else might have been a better idea though! Did you really think getting wasted was the solution to our problem, here?"

"Well it was...it was always..." Chick's eyes scoured the darkness around them for a tiny second, as though trying to find the right word, or brace himself for something, and then he finished in a rush; "It was always my old man's solution!"

Chick seemed quelled into shock by his own words. Lightning thought he saw something flicker tellingly in Chick's eyes, and then he realised that it was deep mortification.

"...what?" Lightning ventured, his thoughts teetering on comprehension. "Your old man? Your dad?"

Chick shrunk back a bit, his eyes wide and now clearly exposing his humiliation.

"Just...forget about it, McQueen. Forget that,"

The silence that hung around them now was much more awkward than before; on both parts. Lightning was at a loss of what to say. He bit his lip, his eyes falling over each pin-prick of a star that speckled the sky, as though they might lend him the gift of being able to speak naturally.

"I...your dad? Did he drink?"

"I said forget it, McQueen," now there was a flash of warning in Chick's words, along with his embarrassment. He was looking at the ground, to where his bumper still dragged rather lamely.

Lightning was a little overcome with his own sympathy for the other race car in that moment, even though he'd been so adamantly against it. After all, it was Chick who needed to apologise...

"C'mon, let's get moving," Chick said gruffly, throwing any idea that he might've apologised immediately out of the way.

Lightning no longer had the conviction to be annoyed at that anymore. His mind was buzzing with Chick's outburst, and what it might mean. He ventured a subtle look at Chick; but the car's profile gave nothing away, save his apparent determination to keep on driving.

So they went on in a painful silence, the dust kicking up against their tires, causing little clouds about them and the mutter of their engines, the only things seeming to serve some kind of distraction.

The sky was beginning to lighten though, and early morning would soon be arriving. Lightning had not forgotten what the road cars had told them, about Dolpha and the bikers. In some ways he'd been strangely glad of the tension between he and Chick; it helped him to forget the other much more glaring problem they had.

Now though, with light revealing them as lost, effectively helpless cars on the wasteland, there was little to stop Lightning from worrying about Dolpha, and how he might find them again.

"There's some little trenches round here, alright if we need to hideout," Chick spoke up.

Lightning followed his gaze and was a little comforted by that fact. At least Chick was still keen on keeping cautious. He drove near to a small indent in the ground, which was deep enough for a car to hide in if someone happened to come along at the wrong moment.

"Hm. I doubt I'd be very good at getting out again, though," he commented.

He half expected, more hoped, that Chick would offer a cutting reply. So he was disappointed when he got none.

They just kept on moving, and nobody said anything unless it was entirely necessary.

Necessary came in the form of an alarmed hiss from Chick;

"McQueen, get down, now!"

The green car had steered sharply round, blowing dirt up in Lightning's face. Lightning panicked through his momentary blindness, then tailed after Chick unquestioningly, into a small trench.

He almost crashed against the other cars rear, and gave a whimpered apology as Chick turned silently around to face him.

"I heard something. A biker, I reckon." Chick said grimly.

Lightning stifled a cough, the dirt was still settling slowly around them, and now he found himself uncomfortably posed in the trench; his nose digging against the ground whilst his rear end was still half up the trench.

"Move down a bit more," Chick said, and he reversed back.

Lightning did as he was told, and managed with relative quiet to side up to Chick.

"That was close-"

"Shh!" Chick snapped, "they might be coming."

Lightning felt his gut clench. He gritted his teeth and whispered; "what shall we do?"

Chick seemed unsure of himself, before jerking his head ahead. "We keep moving. Along the trench."

Lightning glanced at the uneven, cracking ground set before them, and couldn't help the fear which clouded his wits;

"What? we...we can't...it could be dangerous! There might be bigger trenches! We...we don't know how safe it is..."

"It's this or keep travelling up there, where we're more likely to be found," Chick said huffily. And then he turned and began moving, low and silent against the ground like some predatory creature.

Lightning was wavering in his own quiet panic. He looked doubtfully above; the trench they'd rolled down was rather steep itself, he wasn't sure he'd even be able to get back out again. He turned his gaze back to the green car, who was looking more and more insignificant the smaller he became.

Lightning sighed shakily as he pressed after the other car. He was still annoyed at him, he still remembered that horrible rant, and he still wanted an apology. He wasn't going to forget that anytime soon.

But also, he still remembered that Chick had saved him. And that Chick had come back for him, even though he hadn't needed to... And Chick was upset. Something about his dad...

"Hey, not so fast, wait for me," Lightning hissed after the green car, pushing fear to the back of his mind.

They stopped their delicate creeping along the trench when Chick halted unexpectedly. Lightning almost clunked into his back.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing,"

Lightning couldn't see his face, but Chick sounded a bit uneven.

"You sure?"

"Yeah," said irritably. "Just give me a minute. And, um, thought I heard something."

Lightning rolled his eyes and decided he wouldn't push the subject. Instead opting to scowl at the spoiler on Chick's rear, which was littered with far too many stickers. All of which were either scuffed with dirt or even torn away in places.

Lightning's annoyance softened. "Is...um...are you sure you're ok?"

"Ford, McQueen. What are you, my mom?" Chick revved his engine, as if in answer to Lightning.

"Ok, I get it." Lightning was dealt a gush of exhaust flames, and he coughed against them.

He heard Chick snigger his amusement, and for some reason Lightning was a little relieved. Even if Chick had meant it maliciously. At least they could go back to speaking to each other.

"Ha, ha. You're not funny, Chick." Lightning said as they carried on along the trench.

"You already said that, yesterday, if I remember rightly, McQueen."

"I don't remember."

"Of course you wouldn't. You were wasted."

Lightning was glad Chick didn't see his blush. "Oh. Well that wasn't my fault."

"Yeah, I know. It's my fault you got drunk. I was irresponsible and am a bad influence and all that other stuff. Please spare me yet another lecture, McQueen."

"I wasn't going to say that. I was going to say it's not my fault I'm such a lightweight."

"Oh. Uh. Ok then."

Lightning smirked; "Besides, it probably is my own fault. I had more than I could handle."

Chick laughed a little bit; "yeah, you can say that again."

The silence around them was much easier this time, when nobody said anything else. So it was much more regrettable when it was broken my an ominous noise, which seemed to vibrate through the trench and cause both Lightning and Chick to halt in their tracks.

"Is that them?" Lightning turned a rushed look to Chick.

Chick looked past him, and scowled. "Think they might've spotted us, rookie."

Lightning was compelled, unwillingly, to follow Chick's grim gaze. In the very far distance were two specks, but both were undeniably recognisable.

"The bikers," Lightning heard himself squeak.

"Time to get those gears moving, rookie," Chick said, and was veering up the side of the trench in a second.

Lightning followed, closing his eyes against the dust which played around him, and he simply followed the harsh sound of Chick's motor for a good few lengths before cracking open his eyes to find himself almost stuck to the green cars side.

"Hey, how's it hanging, McQueen?" Chick grinned, and had to yell against the sound of their thunderous engines.

Inexplicably, Lightning found himself grinning back.

They tore along the desert, and Lightning was gliding across the ground. He'd never been great on dirt; Doc had taught him that lesson, but right now, rushing along the land at manic speed, Lightning felt like he'd always raced on it.

"Are they still behind us?" he called.

"I don't know,"

Their slowing was gradual and cautious; Lightning couldn't hear an engine behind them, but then he supposed he wouldn't anyway, since their own engines were so loud. It was with tentative nerves that he dared a glance backwards, and saw that the bikers had vanished.

Chick caught Lightning's look of relief, and slowed to a considerable stop. The green car's engine made an unhealthy growling sound, and with it Chick groaned quite unmistakable pain.

"Hey, are you alright?"

"Yeah. Fine." came a strained reply, and Chick had squeezed his eyes shut.

"No you're not." Lightning rolled toward Chick, but the green car snapped his eyes open and looked at him guardedly.

"I said I'm fine, McQueen. What part of that don't you get?"

Lightning opened his mouth to argue, but then thought better of it. He didn't want another argument. He didn't think he'd be able to handle another awkward silence. Instead he lowered to the ground, allowing his engine to cool, and offered Chick what he hoped was a friendly smile.

Chick saw it, and was resigned in his own smile. His voice matched it, tired and defeated; "Listen, McQueen...I gotta say...I'm, um...about what I said before..."

Lightning tipped forward a bit, since Chick was speaking rather quietly.

"You gotta know..I was just annoyed. I didn't mean everything I said, though. I mean, I think you're a good race car...and you probably do work real hard and stuff."

"It's true, I really do." Lightning nodded, allowing himself a grin. "Might be hard to believe, I can grant you,"

Chick's grin was half-hearted in return, and his eyes flashed seriousness. "Well, I guess it's just different for you rookies. You lot get built differently. But some of us..." he trailed off and looked very embarrassed.

Lightning took in a bracing breath, knowing the Chick was recalling the outburst of earlier. Lightning had never been good with awkward things like this. Stuff which showed you were vulnerable, maybe a bit weak. But over time, since Radiator Springs, Lightning had learnt that it was ok, if nothing else. It was ok to be upset about things and talk about stuff.

"Erm," he cleared his throat. "You know. When I was at Radiator Springs, I really, really hated it."

Chick raised his windshields in a surprised look. He probably hadn't expected that turn of conversation.

Lightning pressed on anyway. "Yeah, I hated it a whole load. I thought it was just a...well, a hillbilly land. Like you," he acknowledged Chick with a short nod of his hood. "Then when I got used to it...well, I didn't really have the choice, I kinda...started to like it. And I started to like the other cars."

"Oh yeah," Chick grinned vaguely. "That Porsche, right? She's a nice looking piece of metal."

"Ahem. Yeah." Lightning coughed, to hide his embarrassment. "She's very nice,"

"McQueen? Why are you telling me this? I already know about your little trip to hillbilly land. The press had a field day printing it, remember? All about how you'd been on this incredible journey and had finally found yourself."

Lightning pulled a face which matched Chick's; "I wouldn't put it like that. The press like to exaggerate."

"Well still."

"What I'm trying to say is, the whole thing changed stuff for me. I started to see things in a different way. I wasn't so obsessed with winning the cup."

"And?" Chick looked impatient. "I'm still trying to find your point here, McQueen."

Lightning heard himself sigh his own impatience. "Chick, I'm trying to say-trying to say...this whole experience...hasn't it opened your eyes a bit? I mean, all this driving for a lives stuff? Hasn't it made the Piston Cup a little bit insignificant in comparison to all this?"

Chick faltered on his response, his mouth hanging open slightly as he seemed to think it over. Eventually he settled for glaring at Lightning. "I still want to win that cup, McQueen."

"Chick-"

"-but I can see what you're saying," Chick finished quickly, and spoke as though it pained him to even admit it.

Lightning half smiled. It was a good bit of progress.

"I can't help that I want to win the Piston Cup," Chick added suddenly, a little bit defensive. "Blame my old man. He was a few times worse."

"Oh?" Lightning enquired casually, but secretly this was what he'd been working to. All he wanted; just for Chick to open up a bit more. "Was he, um, was he hard on you? I mean with racing and stuff?"

Chick spared Lightning a surprised look, and burst into a laughter which was much more bitter than happy.

"You're kidding, aren't you, McQueen?" he shook his head. "Nah. My old man. He was never hard on me."

"Oh," Lightning didn't understand.

"He was too hard on himself," Chick explained, in an harsh voice, as though he might be recollecting a stinging memory. "He was crazy about racing, my old man. Obsessed, probably. All I remember of him was this green blur going round and round. He didn't stop for nothin', not even his kids."

Lightning listened with intent, taken by the crack of emotion in Chick's tone.

"Course, he never got very far. That was his big problem. Couldn't take it. Couldn't accept he wasn't good enough to get into the big leagues." Chick looked at Lightning pointedly. "That's when he started drinking. And that's all I remember about him. Racing and drinking. Great life, huh?" Chick's laugh still so bitter, and very forced, Lightning could see.

"I'm sorry," Lightning said very redundantly.

Chick just smirked. "Don't be. I'm not. I'm well shot of him now."

Lightning wanted to ask more, but the look of finality on Chick's face told him it was best not to.

And that was ok. Lightning had the feeling Chick had told him more than he might ever have intended.

"Anyway, just forget all that stuff I said about you before, McQueen." the green car said hastily. "I never meant it."

Lightning nodded into a tiny silence. "It's ok. I know you're sorry, Chick."

Chick blinked up at him, surprise glossed his eyes. Lightning was quite amused by it and he grinned.

"Well. Um. That's all good then. Rookie," Chick added as a hurried afterthought. He seemed flustered now.

"Great," Lightning beamed. "Thunder."

Chick's terrible embarrassment quickly fell into annoyance. "Hey, watch it,"

Lightning laughed. It was like something heavy and needless had been pulled off the back of his hood, and now he felt much lighter and happier without it.

"Any anyway, I'm still gonna beat you for the Piston Cup, Rookie,"

Lightning pressed his gears forward, catching up to a grinning Chick; "Oh yeah? We'll see about that, Thunder. We'll see,"

888

"So you're Tow Truck friend. Was he seriously as stupid as he came across? Or was it all an act?"

"He's not stupid! Stop calling my friends, Chick,"

"Ok, right. Sorry, rook." Chick laughed to himself.

They'd been driving at a leisurely gait for about an hour now, though the tender stinging somewhere near the back of Chick's engine made it seem more like a couple of days.

It had been his idea to carry on moving, and he'd refused help when it came to McQueen checking his engine for him. He wasn't going to allow for that, and now he had a vague idea how McQueen must have felt when Chick had offered to do the same.

Hideously embarrassed, probably.

Still, Chick thought he was doing an ok job of putting on a brave front, he'd definitely not crumbled there.

He had in other ways, though.

Chick wasn't sure why he'd decided to spill details about his dad. McQueen had wheedled it out of him somehow, and he'd ended up telling the rookie more than he'd ever cared to share with anyone else before.

And now he'd shared it, it had been...alright. It hadn't been half so terrible as he'd expected, anyway.

It was still strange that he'd told McQueen - Lightning McQueen of all cars, though. Yet in the moment it hadn't been strange. It had felt like he was talking to a friend.

McQueen...his friend?

Chick mulled over the strange realisation, somewhere at the back of his mind.

"And anyway, Mater's a really good kind of guy. If you took the time to talk to him-"

McQueen was still blabbering on about that tow truck.

Chick half smirked, considering cutting in with a taunt, when he felt a very familiar sound tremble beneath his tires. He turned round; and was a little more panicked by the fact that he couldn't see anything. Yet the sound was getting louder and louder by the second. A deep roar.

"What..what is that? Bikers?" McQueen asked, voice a bit shaky.

"Keep quiet and get down," Chick crouched as low as he could, and McQueen nodded and did the same. Both their suspensions creaked with the movement, and Chick held his breath.

The vibration beneath their tires was closing in now, unbearably near. Whoever they were, bikers or not, they must be almost on top of them.

Next moment; a crashing sound, and Chick saw dust before his eyes and McQueen was yelling beside him. Then something heavy falling over his windshield.

An explosion of white-hot pain, and then darkness.

888


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

There were voices. He could hear voices.

"I can't see em', must've got buried in all the rocks,"

"You're kiddin, right? The boss is gonna go crazy. We should at least look for em-"

"-No way I'm going down there. Looks like a death trap. It's too late."

Things had been going so well, too. Or at least getting better.

Chick came to with a low groan, cracking a windshield open and confronting a darkness which at first made him think, rather distantly, that he was blind. Then panic set in, and as he blinked a few more times he realised he wasn't blind at all.

There was simply a massive boulder hanging over him.

Actually, there were boulders all around him, and pressing against his sides. He shifted forwards a tiny bit, and his tires touched more boulder. There was an ominous shuddering noise all about him, and some of the boulders moved and crumbled onto his hood. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he realised he was surrounded, and quite trapped.

"Damn it," and then remembered McQueen all at once.

He peered frantically about, but saw no scrap of red metal, no tell tale tire or maybe a streak of orange which Chick would have instantly recognised as number 95.

"McQueen?" he whispered, feeling a little sick. "McQueen? Can you hear me? If you can, just, um...rev your engine a little, ok?"

Chick held his breath, and hated the dead quiet that seemed to linger around him.

And then, a muffled, faint sound.

Chick narrowed his eyes, trying to decipher which direction the noise had come from.

Somewhere to his left, he was sure of it...He edged a little that way, grimacing as more dust seemed to speckle over his hood and his windshield.

"McQueen? Do it again. I couldn't hear very well. Are you near?"

There was another short silence, and then came another muffled noise, but this time a little stronger, and with it a meek voice;

"I'm here, not sure where you are,"

McQueen sounded dazed. But he was talking, and Chick felt his bunched up nerves starting to relax.

"Ok, um. Well just stay where you are, I'm gonna try and find a way out of here,"

A needless pause, and then; "ok."

Chick wasn't much comforted by it, and he could only hope that McQueen sounded so distant because he was just that; distant. Either that, or he was just scared out of his hood. Chick didn't like to imagine McQueen was hurt. Not again, and not now. Not when everything had been getting better...

"Chick?" McQueen's voice was brittle, and it almost hurt.

"Yeah, kid?"

"I'm scared,"

Chick floundered in a brief moment of empathy. Because Dear Ford, he was scared too. Terrified, in fact. But no way in hell could he let McQueen know that. He stared at the blank space which led to McQueen's voice, and as he imagined McQueen there, trapped in rubble, his insides seemed to pang.

He swallowed hard; "yeah, I know," he glanced in the direction which seemed to lead to McQueen's voice, "but don't worry, kid. We just gotta- gotta tread careful and find a way out, alright?"

As he spoke he felt himself despairing a little bit. His eyes searched the darkness, seeing nothing but quivering unstable rocks all around and above him. If he made even a tiny misjudged move, they could both be crushed.

He remembered McQueen again.

"McQueen, whatever you do, don't move. We need to think about this carefully,"

There was another of those worrying silences, in which Chick was finding himself starting to stew in the unbearableness of it all, and then McQueen's voice, quieter than before;

"I can't move, Chick. I'm stuck...I can't even see anything..."

The dread which seemed to reach the pit of Chick's innards made it hard for him to control his gasp. But he managed it, and he knew he had to stay calm, and not panic. McQueen would be ok. They were going to get out of this together.

"Chick?"

"Yeah, I'm right here, McQueen," Chick damned his voice, which sounded weak and uneven.

He needed to stay in control. Needed to keep calm.

"I need you to, um, I need you to see if you can find any light. Any at all, alright?"

Another endless pause, and then Chick definitely heard something shift; the scrape of metal, and the low rumble of an engine.

McQueen coughed; "sorry. I can't see anything."

If anything, he only sounded more distant. It spurred Chick into action. He moved a tentative roll forwards, and his bumper touched the jagged edge of rocks with a wince. But the rock remained stable. Taking a deep breath, he nudged it.

A rock landed on his hood with a dense thump. It dizzied Chick for a tiny instant, but that was ok; he could see a scrap of red in the tiny crack laid out before him.

He nosed the rock a little more, and this time sprinkles of dust fell over his windshield and stung his eyes. He blinked his windshields rapidly, and was only happy to see a little bit more of McQueen come into sight.

"McQueen, I can see you, ok?"

When McQueen didn't respond Chick had to swallow his panic. He nosed the stubborn rock in front of him with more urgency.

Rocks spilled over his hood all at once, like a heavy and noisy hail, only painful too.

He held back a few choice curses and lifted his suspension; rocks seemed to fall away from him, and the loss of weight manoeuvred him sharply forwards.

He almost crashed against the wall of rock which remained between him and McQueen. But whatever happened, it seemed to have worked. It crumbled away, and McQueen was there, grinning thinly.

"Hey, Thunder. What took you so long?"

Chick saw the hefty boulder which was preventing McQueen from moving; it lay across the majority of his back, and it looked painful.

"Don't worry, McQueen. We'll have you outta this in no time," Chick edged forwards, and the boulders which scattered on him felt distant and unimportant.

It was hard to get to McQueen; there was so little room, and there was only the shaft of light left by Chick himself for him to see properly. He squinted at the boulder which was pressing into McQueen; denting his back.

"I'm going to try and get it off," he said with more confidence than he certainly felt.

McQueen mumbled a response that Chick didn't quite catch, so he moved forward a little more and pressed his nose testily against the boulder.

It didn't move.

"Oh boy," Chick rolled his eyes round the darkness, fleetingly lost in despair. It all looked hopeless. "McQueen, can you try and move? Just a little?"

"Hm?" the dazed response.

It was no good; McQueen was too busy teetering between consciousness and unconsciousness to really hear him.

"Ok, guess I'm on my own," Chick took a breath, and then rolled forwards and into the boulder with some force.

This time it rolled a little way off McQueen, and the red car grimaced and glared; "that hurt,"

"Sorry," Chick said hastily. But he needed to roll it the rest of the way off the other car if he was ever going to move. He braced himself, reversing as far back as he could manage before bumping another rock, and then he rushed forwards in a burst of speed.

He met the boulder with a crunch which sent him bouncing backwards. His pain was brief as noticed the rock sliding the rest of the way off McQueen. The red cars engine came to life in a rough rumble, and then he moved forwards with a short groan.

"McQueen! Are you ok?"

"Uh, I think so," McQueen blinked away his disorientation, and raised an uncertain smile. Then he groaned; "just a little tender round the hood, I guess,"

Chick observed the obvious dent on McQueen's rear."Yeah, it doesn't look that great, rookie," still, he couldn't help smiling his relief when McQueen wheeled round.

"I could say the same about you," he said. "look, you're bumpers come off,"

Chick followed McQueen's gaze to the twisted bit of metal in front of them. It didn't matter; it had been loose for most of the damn time, anyway.

He smirked sardonically at McQueen; "Bumpers can be replaced. Prissy race cars like you take a little longer,"

McQueen rolled his eyes. The gesture always annoyed Chick, but just recently he'd gotten to tolerate it, and could almost understand why the rookie did it. He supposed he could be a bit of a sarcastic prat. Sometimes.

"Hey Chick, what happened anyway?" McQueen asked.

Chick rolled his eyes back. It was only fair.

"Whilst you were busy being all helpless and unconscious, we got stuck in a avalanche by the looks of things," he blinked ahead, where the small hole he'd managed to roll tentatively out of had all but caved in. The other direction; passed McQueen, gave away a pinprick of light in the far distance.

Above; keeping the cave-in together, or almost together, was a roof of jagged rocks. Occasionally dust scattered down, and it was more than enough to tell Chick they needed to get out of there.

"Let's get moving, rookie. Unless you fancy life at the car crushers,"

888

Lightning didn't think he'd ever stop being thankful about how glad he was to just be alive. He didn't take for granted the direness of the situation, and he understood perfectly well that he might have been, as Chick had so kindly put it, a crushed car.

Well, they could both still be crushed cars, but for now things were ok. And as they began creeping along the unstable death trap of a tunnel, Lightning began to forget his own mortality, and registered the green car's scruffy spoiler in front of him with sudden realisation.

"Chick, you saved me,"

"Hm," the disinterested response, which Lightning had almost expected anyway.

"No, you really did. How did you do that, anyway? You must've drove that...that huge rock off me. How'd you do that, Chick?" the more he considered it, the more amazing it seemed.

"What do you mean, how'd I do it?" Chick sounded frosty. "I just pushed it off."

Lightning whistled, "well, that's impressive, you know." then he was prickled with concern; "um, Chick. Are you all ok? I mean, after that? You sure you're not damaged or anything?"

"You wish," Chick's sarcasm was soft and harmless, and his body shook with a vaguely spiteful laughter. "This is what you call proper engineering, rookie. You don't get this kind of building-"

"-on your fancy new models," Lightning finished for him, and couldn't help a smile. It was getting to be weird, anticipating what Chick was going to say, even what his expression might be; a knowing smirk, if Lightning didn't know better.

"You're agonizing, McQueen. You know that?"

"I've been told," he grinned, a little embarrassed, and was glad Chick didn't see it. "Well, I was just being concerned. Y'know. Concern. It's one of those things that nice cars can be. You should try it sometime, Chick. I think it'd really suit you,"

"You think?" Chick sounded doubtfully amused.

"Yeah. Definitely." at that moment Lightning almost bumped into Chick's rear, and then there was a sharp thump a little way ahead. A rock had fallen a bare few inches in front Chick.

He rolled over it with a scowl; "I'll get back to you on the being nice thing, if we ever get outta here alive."

"I'll hold you to it," Lightning promised, and wasn't sure why he was grinning as he dodged another near fatal rock slide.

The tunnel was getting worse, crumbling all around them, and the little point of light in front didn't look any nearer.

"I hope you don't mind disappointment, rookie," Chick kept talking. Maybe it was to ease his nerves, or both their nerves. It was working a little, anyway.

"Why? Why would I be disappointed?" Lightning asked as he blinked away a bit of falling dirt in his eye.

"Because I'm not nice, and you should just get to grips with it, McQueen. You think that just cos you've been on that amazing journey everybody else can feel the same sort of things. Well, it's not true. I'm still me. And I'm still bad and I'm still gonna whoop your butt on the track."

"Ok, Chick. Whatever you say," Lightning pretended to be disappointed, if only to save Chick's pride.

Truth was, Chick was a hypocritical liar. Chick had saved his life, numerous times now. Through all Lightning's near death experiences, in some strange way, Chick Hick's had proven some sort of life saver.

It would have been strange and unbelievable a few days ago. Now it wasn't so much, because he knew Chick better.

So he didn't feel weird when he nudged Chick in the side, like he had done so many times before with his best friend Mater. It was a friendly gesture, something he'd do in way of thanks, in way of affection.

Chick had earned it.

"Thanks, Chick. You know, for the whole saving me thing. It's much appreciated. Incase you didn't already figure,"

The green car raised a windshield at him. "I did figure, McQueen. Now stop being a sap and move out so we can get the hell outta here, ok?"

Lightning guessed he just wasn't the pally affectionate type. Well, he already knew that too, just like he was getting to know Chick.

"Ok. No problem. Thunder."

Chick gave him a wary glare, and led the way in the tunnelling darkness ahead of them.

"They probably think we're dead," he said after a while, when the silence around them began to get a little too eerie for Lightning's nerves.

"Do you think they're still up there? Above us?" he looked up at the jagged ceiling. There was not a peek of light, nothing to signal if it might be night or day.

"If they think we're dead, it's only a good thing," Chick said grimly. "Maybe now they've given up trying to track us down."

"Yeah," Lightning considered it, "actually, I think I would prefer death by rocks than death by...whatever those guys were gonna do to us,"

"It's some kind of black market trade." Chick said in a matter of fact way. Lightning was surprised at how offhandedly he said it.

"You know about it?"

"Not directly, stupid. Just, well. You hear stories. Especially when you've been in the racing business as long as me,"

"This is a racing thing?"

"C'mon, McQueen. You don't think that Dolpha just happened to pick the top two ranking race cars this season? Use your brain."

"Ok, ok." Lightning batted away his irritation. He could handle a spiteful Chick now. "So, does this kind of thing still go on? And what are they expecting to get out of it, anyway?"

"They sell the engine parts off, to the guys who wanna know the secrets. You know, to learn how a car got to be so fast in the first place. It's a pretty lowdown business. But the moneys supposed to be crazy,"

Lightning let Chick's explanation sink in. He felt so naive and stupid. It was like he knew so little about the thing he loved; how could there be these dark and nasty things happening right under his nose? Were there any cars he knew, that he talked to, raced with, that might have done this sort of thing?

He stared at Chick.

Before he could stop himself, he had asked; "have you ever-"

"-no I've not," Chick wheeled round sharp and fast, and even though it was so very dark, Lightning saw the stung look on his rivals face. "How can you even think that?" he asked, voice low and stunned.

Lightning just wished he could take it all back.

"I-I- didn't mean-Oh, Ford. I was just thinking out loud."

"Yeah? And you think I'd stoop that low, McQueen? Hell, I always knew what you thought of me...but I never thought it was that bad,"

"I don't think it's that bad! And I don't think that!" Lightning defended, hating the upset look on the other cars face.

"That's not what it sounds like, McQueen." Chick moved to turn back around, but Lightning rolled into his side, hitting it lightly, so that he was blocked.

"Listen," he said, feeling desperate, "I don't think that at all. It was stupid. I'm stupid. And how can I think it, anyway? You saved me. I know you're a good guy,"

Chick strained against Lightning's block, eager not to look at him. He stared harshly at the ground.

"Let me by,"

"No."

Chick revved his engine, but his shove against Lightning was weak at best. For a moment his expression was undecided in a frown, then he sighed and looked at Lightning, tired and resigned.

"What, McQueen? You really think I'm ok? I told you to get ready to be disappointed."

"You're good." Lightning insisted. "And just wait, when we get outta here the press are gonna be there, and they're gonna say the same,"

Chick shook his front. "You still don't get it, do you? You're the good guy. The press are gonna fawn over you, like they always do. Everyone likes a shiny new model." he looked McQueen up and down, and then hesitated, "...But with me, I'm the guy everyone hates. Everyone likes to boo someone. And everyone hates me-"

"That's not true-"

"-Oh yeah? I bet you hated me before all this. Hell, McQueen. You actually thought it was me who plotted this whole car-napping in the first place."

Lightning felt his breath hitch. "But that was_ before_, before all this happened-"

"And nobody else knows all this happened," Chick pointed out. "When we get back, nothings gonna change, McQueen. I'm still gonna hate you, like everyone hates me. Like everyone loves you. That's the way it is. And That's. How. I. Like. It." he shoved against Lightning with enough force to make him give way.

Lightning watched Chick pass, his face set and stubborn. "Well. I never hated you. Not even before all this. I don't hate anyone."

Chick seemed to blink his surprise for a tiny moment, and his mouth quivered.

"Nice to know, rookie."

8

They went on in dark silence through the rest of the tunnel. Lightning felt like he should be cautious and careful, but his mind was too preoccupied.

He had been looking forward to getting home; to all his friends. Of course he longed to see everyone again; Sally, Mater, Mac, Doc and everyone else he could put a name to. But now he found himself considering what Chick had said, and maybe it all would just go back to normal again.

Was that so bad?

Lightning didn't need an extra friend, he had lots already. And Chick probably wouldn't be a very good friend. He'd probably steal all his best tactics on the track, stab him in the back, and maybe try to steal Sally off him.

It would probably be a disaster.

When he looked at Chick, Lightning knew that even if that was true, even if it all happened to be a disaster; he wouldn't care.

He just wanted them to be friends.

They reached the speck of light; blocked by smaller but formidable boulders.

"You lost a bumper last time. I'll do it." Lightning told Chick, before he could argue. He revved his engine and back up a few metres, then burst forth into the boulders.

They fell apart, taking the cavernous tunnel with them. Lightning and Chick got out in time to watch the trench fall in on itself, until it was just a pile of rubble.

"Nice job there, rookie," Chick said flatly. "For once you do something good,"

Lighting turned round; the light of the sun hurt his eyes, and the vastness around them brought a little despair to his innards. They were no better off, really. They were exposed and vulnerable once again, just like before.

And now, when he looked at Chick, he could see properly all the twists and dents which littered the green car, seemingly put into brutal focus against the bright sun.

"We should get moving," Chick said, driving quickly past him.

"How do you know which way we're going?" Lightning tailed after, thoughts lingering on Chick's shattered front. "That cave-in has totally thrown off my sense of direction,"

"You never had a sense of direction. Look, this way,"

Lightning looked ahead, and his smiled almost extended off his face. There, in the distance, was a patch of long grey. Little dots of colour occasionally past by.

"A...a road," he choked.

"Yep. Glad you can still remember that little detail,"

Lightning was too deliriously happy to even notice the sarcasm in Chick's voice. He grinned at the other car; "a road!" he repeated stupidly.

Chick smiled at him, and suddenly the vastness around them seemed smaller, more contained. Like maybe they actually were going to get home safe, and they weren't just deluding themselves.

Lightning squinted ahead as he moved past Chick, and though it was useless, imagined that he knew all the cars zipping by. They'd be safe soon. He pressed up a gear, and then found he couldn't hear Chick's engine near to his. He turned round, and he saw the green car had closed his eyes.

"Chick?" he moved to him, anxious. "Chick, what's wrong?"

Chick snapped his eyes open, and they looked pained; "Nothin', nothin. Just the motor. Need to give it a rest, I guess. Go on, McQueen." he nodded ahead. "I'll catch up,"

Lightning didn't want to go ahead, Chick looked much too ill and neglected, and it wasn't much further. They could afford a little rest.

He sided up to Chick. "It's ok. I need a rest too. Mind if I stay?"

Chick muttered something non-committal, and just looked uncomfortable.

"You don't have to. I'll catch up, I told you,"

"And I don't mind staying."

Lightning didn't really mind at all. Even though civilisation was so near; just a speedy drive away, Lightning didn't mind staying with Chick. There was nothing to mind about. He wanted to, and he was concerned.

"When the rocks fell, did you think we were gonna die?" he decided to ask.

"Huh?" Chick spared him a withering look. "What kinda question is that?"

"I was just wondering, that's all. I can't really remember much of it,"

"Well, neither can I. Rocks fell. Things hurt. I woke up."

"I thought I was the only helpless and unconscious one?"

Chick snorted; "I may have been unconscious for a real tiny amount of time, McQueen, but I definitely wasn't helpless."

"Ok," Lightning smirked.

"I mean it,"

There was more quiet, in which Lightning suspected Chick was trying to recover his dwindling engine. He wasn't stupid; he could see that Chick's condition was not great, and he was just grateful that the stretch of road ahead of them was not a mirage.

"How long have we been gone?" he wondered. "I mean, I've kinda lost track of the days. And what about the cup? Do you think the race already happened?"

Chick stared at him; "Don't tell me you're thinking about that? Lightning "it's just a cup" McQueen? Maybe I'm goin' crazy."

"I don't care about the cup."

"Good. Cos you won't be in any condition to race for it,"

"Neither will you,"

"You just hanging around to remind me to be miserable?" Chick asked sarcastically.

"No," he really wasn't, and Lightning felt a little annoyed at himself. He just couldn't win.

Then, through the silence, Chick said quietly;

"My old man. He was involved in the black market."

"Huh?" Lightning blinked at him.

"It was my dad. That's how I know so much about Dolpha and those other weirdo's. My dad used to be involved in that sort of thing. He was so desperate to race, I guess."

Lightning stared. It made sense, his half shocked mind processed. Chick knew enough, but not near enough to be involved himself.

"Did he...did he ever..."

"He didn't gut anyone, McQueen. If that's what you're trying to say," Chick almost looked amused. "He just...I think he bought parts. You know. I mean, I was a kid at the time. I didn't understand."

"Wow." Lightning didn't know what to say.

"You don't have to say he was a scumbag. I already know," Chick said quickly, and then he smiled a bit wryly. "It's where I get my mean streak from,"

"What?" Lightning was aghast, "No, you're nowhere near as bad as him."

"That's funny,"

"What is?"

My dad always said I was never as good as him. He never said I wasn't as bad as him."

"Well you're not."

Lightning wasn't sure why he was so vehement about it. He guessed he just hated seeing Chick so downcast. It wasn't the green car he knew, and was so familiar with.

"Forget about it, rookie," Chick said a moment later. He rolled forwards, a little tentative at first, and then revved his motor. It sounded unhealthy but capable enough.

Lightning rolled after him, and gradually the road ahead became large and real.

888


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

The future wasn't something Chick often thought about. Usually he only thought as far ahead as his next race, and then maybe what bar he might pull up in afterwards. He'd never saw reason in thinking on things any deeper than that.

And now the near future was catching up on him, he realised. As they ploughed across the terrain toward their spot of civilisation; a long, busy road, Chick began to worry about the thing he had been trying so hard not to worry about.

His motor was making a strange whirring sound and there was something leaking out of his undercarriage like an insistent tap. Of course McQueen was too busy looking eagerly ahead to notice it, and Chick was actually glad about that.

Even though so much stuff had happened, and he'd probably told McQueen things he would definitely regret at some point, there was still a satisfactory calm in knowing something McQueen didn't.

And anyway McQueen looked too happy and excited. It'd be cruel to wipe the grin off his face now.

"I can't believe we found a motorway." the red car said. "soon this whole nightmare will be over, Chick!"

"Uh-huh," Chick nodded. He kept his gaze forward, it helped encourage his engine to keep going.

The whole ground was bathed in the suns hot glow, and the cars on the road ahead dazzled and shone with the light. They were getting bigger and more decipherable. Chick had already counted six four-by-fours driving by.

"Seven," McQueen added. He grinned as the grey one zoomed past. "Know what I'm gonna do when we get back?"

"What?" Chick enjoyed this small talk. He hadn't really cared for much of any sort of talk before.

Maybe he just enjoyed talking to McQueen.

"I'm gonna take a long luxurious Car Wash. You know Flo has just opened a new one at Radiator Springs,"

Chick didn't know who Flo was, but he thought about Car Washes with a wishful smile.

"Yeah. That would be pretty awesome."

They were driving at an average sort of rate; and Chick doubted he could manage much faster anyway. His whole body felt weird and off-kilter. He guessed some of it had to do with his bumper-less front, which made him feel too light and brittle.

McQueen looked ok though, considering everything. He had a few nasty looking dents; most courtesy of falling rocks, but on the whole he seemed alright.

It made Chick feel better.

McQueen talked about other things he wanted to do when he got back; and Chick picked up names like Luigi and Guido, or Ramone. But mostly he just focussed on keeping his engine running. It felt much too hot and prickly.

"Eighth," Lightning said, eyeing the red four-by-four that rushed by, slighting bigger that the last one.

Chick grinned. "Am I insane, or are we counting cars, here?

"It's just to be sure we're not hallucinating or anything," Lightning said reasonably. "If we're both seeing them then they can't be hallucinations, can they?"

Chick raised a windshield, pretending to be shocked; "y'know, McQueen, sometimes you really do use your brains, don't you?"

"Well, yeah. It has been known to happen." Lightning smirked back, tilting up a bit. "Also, I just like to spot more four-by-fours than you,"

"I think we're drawing," Chick corrected, then realised he was being ridiculous. "Wait, this is just some stupid game of yours. I'm not playing."

"Spoilsport," Lightning sniffed, but was grinning. "You're just scared you'll lose,"

"I'm not scared of losing a game of Eye Spy Four-by-Fours, McQueen."

"Well, ok." Lightning didn't look convinced. "Thunder,"

Chick wasn't aggravated by it anymore. Instead he narrowed his eyes and saw the next bright orange four-by-four speed by.

"Nine,"

They counted up another six between them, and Chick thought he should point out that Group Hallucinations were actually very possible and had been proven in the past, whilst Lightning moaned and whined a bit about how much he needed a bath, and argued that anyone could pull off white tires if they had the right paintwork.

Smalltalk was good. Chick could almost forget that he was in quite a bit of pain.

A little while later it was all interrupted by a low rumble, and it rekindled a familiar fear in Chick. He halted almost instinctually.

"What's wrong?" McQueen stopped with him.

"Listen,"

McQueen wore a face of concentration, and it quickly fell into dread.

"Oh-" his expression was a confirmation of what Chick had feared. Still he had to see it for himself. He looked to see two bulky bikers coming up fast and determined on the horizon. A few lengths away was a truck-Dolpha.

"What do they think they can do?" McQueen cried incredulously. "We're nearly out of their turf. They can't get us when we're back on the motorway!"

"Maybe, but we're not on the motorway yet, are we?" Chick said grimly. He looked ahead, where suddenly the busy road looked much further away than he would have liked. Hunching down his suspension, which still felt odd and light without his bumper, he glanced at McQueen. "We're gonna have to give it one last push, rookie,"

McQueen's nod was familiar and warming to Chick now. It implied a shared understanding between them, and after everything they'd been through it felt like they could take on anything now.

"You got it," McQueen's smile was slow and sly. "hey, Chick?"

"Yeah?

"Race you,"

Despite himself, Chick smirked back. He couldn't resist.

"You're on,"

Chick pressed forward and for a moment found himself flailing through McQueen's dust. The red car had gained a sharp head start and seemed to blister across the dirt.

Taking a deep breath, Chick shifted into high gear. Then a jolt of pain rushed through his innards and almost brought him back to a stop. He couldn't, though. He had to race McQueen, and beat him. And there were bikers behind them.

The fierce chorus of engines seemed nearer, and it helped make him forget his pain for an important few moments. He focussed on the red blur ahead, and reached it's side with a breathless laugh.

"Slowing down, McQueen?" he jeered. It was familiar and it was like they were back on the track. It was wonderful.

"No way. Just giving you a chance, thunder," McQueen's smirk was brilliant, and Chick wasn't offended; only spurred on by it. Maybe that was how he had always felt, or maybe it was how he always should have felt.

"Yeah right, rookie. I just feel sorry for you," he nosed ahead of McQueen and laughed at the red cars spluttering protest. But McQueen was still near to him, and Chick eyed his side with a flash of something he would always do on the track. He veered in to knock McQueen, his sharp corner already lightly scratching the other race car's side.

It would be so easy, too. Like it always was on the track. He only had to give him a nudge, and he'd definitely win.

He looked ahead, and then caught McQueen's face, which was taken up with pure-minded determination and nothing else. There was nothing malicious and conniving about McQueen. There was nothing unfair and lowdown about McQueen. He just raced.

Chick veered sharply away from him, and placed his own gaze ahead.

He wasn't going to cheat now.

Then McQueen was back at his side and they were level-pegging.

And it was almost like they'd never really left the track, and traumatic moments in falling trenches and glittering garages were bad dreams.

Chick could almost think that, until a tear of pain seared up him, and McQueen's voice was suddenly shaky and worried;

"Ch-Chick-look,"

Chick narrowed his eyes and then saw what McQueen saw ahead of them.

A great line of darkness, which had seemed like shadow a few lengths ago, suddenly presented itself as a great, long gorge. It divided the road from them, and they- they were trapped.

"What do we do?" McQueen asked; his voice high with panic.

Chick didn't know really. He wondered why McQueen thought he had an answer for everything.

Then he was struck with wild inspiration, and with it he felt something akin to deja vu. Then he remembered it had happened before. Almost happened before.

"We jump it,"

His voice sounded stupidly calm and certain, and he almost laughed. This was terrifying and they were going to jump a gorge.

"What? You're crazy," Lightning said, which Chick secretly thought he might agree with.

Nonetheless he raised an eye at the other car; "you said you could jump gorges, if I remember well enough, rook,"

"I said..." McQueen's expression jarred and became irritable; "well I was crazy, then. And I know we can't jump it now! You said so yourself,"

It was strange; Chick wasn't even sure why he was grinning. They were probably going to die, and there were bikers closing in on them, and his engine felt like agony.

"Well I was wrong, rookie. You were right; we can jump it,"

He didn't bother to catch McQueen's reaction, he could already imagine what it was. He already knew that McQueen thought he was mad. Instead he pressed forward, his gears shifting and rumbling into a roar of desperation.

"Just go as fast as you can. Like before," he commanded above the noise. Dirt was spewing all around him, and he heard McQueen choking, and fading behind him. "Faster, rookie,"

"I-I am-" McQueen was back at his side, and the gorge was closing in on them.

It was probably wide and deep, but Chick was too busy trying to temper the pain that was throbbing incessantly in his engine. It was unbearable, but slowing would be suicide.

As if this wasn't.

"Chick-Chick will we make it?" McQueen was yelling breathlessly.

Glancing at him through the dust, Chick easily saw the blind fear in McQueen's eyes. It almost annoyed him; McQueen was supposed to be a swaggering confident show-off, and he was supposed be determined and positive he could jump the gorge.

It was crazy; he wanted McQueen to be confident. He needed him to be!

"McQueen; you can jump it! Don't you remember? You said you could-"

"-I was probably wrong! What do I know-"

"I know you can jump it!"

The ground was grinding their tires, and stones flitted by at dangerous speed. The jitter and tremble of Chick's engine told him he wouldn't get any faster than this. But when he looked at McQueen he knew that his engine could go a little faster. He knew it better than anyone.

He dropped back.

"Chick, what-"

"Speed up, McQueen," he shoved the other car roughly in the rear. McQueen yelped his surprise but didn't slow.

Chick was only pleased about it, even as he was left to navigate his way through the dust left behind, and to hear the bikers getting closer and closer. They were deafening and he was slowing.

He'd known he would.

"Looks like you beat me, McQueen!" he yelled above the wretched noise.

"What?" McQueen's voice was drowned out by engine, and Chick supposed his own was.

All that was left was to keep driving. He wasn't scared; he was never scared when he was moving fast. And so what if McQueen beat him.

So what.

He realised he didn't care anymore. Right in this moment it just didn't matter. Things were trivial and meaningless when you were just about to jump a gorge. It was probably too late to realise these things now, though.

The gorge stretched out before them, the dark pit before safety. A sort of division between heaven and hell. And then Chick saw McQueen fly off into the air. The sun streamed across his bonnet, and he looked like a flash of crimson in the bright sky.

It wasn't like slow-motion, but there was a definite pause for clarity when Chick saw that. He had the time to consider whether McQueen would make it or not, and then hope and pray that he would.

McQueen hit the other side of the gorge with a crunch and a cheer.

Chick was still caught in his moment of relief before he found himself scooting through the air too.

Before he began to fall he knew he wouldn't make it. He'd known from the moment he'd suggested it.

It wasn't scary. He couldn't guess how deep the gorge was; he couldn't even see to look down. He kept his eyes on the brightness above, and was only unsettled when he saw Lightning's face, eyes wide and mouth twisted in horror.

It was the last thing he saw before darkness came.

888

Somehow it didn't seem to be happening.

This wasn't how it was all supposed to happen. The gorge was black and swallowing, but Lightning could easily see the twist of green glinting some metres below. It was still and quiet and he knew it would not move.

It didn't stop him from shouting;

"Chick! Chick! Oh-"

His voice bounced about the gorge uselessly, and jeering curses joined it. Lightning looked up to see two bikers on the other side of the gorge, glaring and defeated. Behind them was Dolpha, who just looked disappointed.

"You got away," his gravelly voice easily carried across the length of the gorge, "you got lucky, that's all. But you won't track us down again so easy,"

Lightning didn't care about tracking down criminal trucks and bikers. His eyes just stung and blind red fury caught his tongue;

"Lucky? You think we're lucky?" he almost veered and tipped his front tires over the gorge, for one second wishing he was back on the other side, wishing he could bash into the glaring bikers and the smug truck that had ruined everything.

They laughed but Lightning barely heard them. He watched a trail of stones and dirt fall into the gorge and didn't think on it anymore. He manoeuvred forwards, and let his tires tip over the edge.

"He's crazy!" one of the bikers cried.

"He's committing suicide!"

Lightning tilted down a little more; his suspension jiggered and wary tires felt sore against the uneven rocks. But he kept moving, praying that gravity might be gentle with him as his nose touched stone. He was horizontal in the air, but he hadn't fallen yet.

He wasn't really thinking about the prospect of falling, anyway. His eyes stayed on the piece of green which was so far below. If he kept focussed on it he didn't feel frightened. He just felt angry and determined.

"Stupid...stupid car...Stupid...stupid..."

He couldn't understand why Chick might have done what he did. It was stupid and pointless and it made Lightning feel terrible.

"Stupid!" he yelled at the rocks around him; and his voice bounced around the uneven walls and made things crumble. Lightning didn't care, and he was oblivious to it. He just kept rolling, his engine muted.

The bottom of the gorge was uncomfortable and spiky, and Chick was tilted on his side. Something was leaking away from him and it's fumes were burnt and scolding.

Lightning remembered the hazards of approaching a gravely damaged car. First Aid and general safety were something of a must when you were in the racing industry. He'd been told plenty of times by Mac that you should be careful about approaching some poor guy who'd sprung a leak. Explosions mostly happened.

Lightning bit back his apprehension. His concern for Chick was too strong.

He rolled precariously to the green car's side; Chick was facing away from him and his upper tires were still rolling slowly round and round. His bonnet was hanging open but Lightning couldn't look at it.

"Chick?" he half-whispered. He hesitated to catch Chick's front. He guessed he was too cowardly to see what might be true.

Might Chick be...

"...No," Lightning rolled round to properly look at Chick. "You're not dead, Chick," he shook his head viciously and blinked away wetness when he set eyes on Chick's.

They were brown, and they were open.

"Chick?"

He rolled a little more forwards and nudged the other cars upturned undercarriage, where fuel still leaked. "You're gonna be ok,"

What a stupid thing to say, Lightning realised as soon as it had left his mouth.

Chick probably thought the same. He just smiled and spoke in a soft way;

"See. Knew you'd jump it, rookie." then he closed his eyes.

"Chick-" Lightning kept nudging the other car, and his mind felt funny and numb. He barely heard the clapping blades of helicopters above him, and the flashing shower of photographers within them.

Too much had happened, and Chick needed to be alright.

888


	12. Chapter 12

_-Intermission-_

In secret, Sally had been twitchy and irritable since the first day. In public she hoped she was presenting a calm and diligent front. Like some stupid, uppity cop Sargent, who knew what his job was and knew it wasn't professional to be getting emotional.

She wasn't a cop, and she had damn good reason to be getting emotional, but she hadn't at all.

Only now, with Doc's voice on the other end of the phone, did emotion finally engulf her. And it was such a weird moment to suddenly feel emotional, too.

"Lightning's been found. As far as we know, he's alright,"

She cried and found Flo at her side comforting her.

She'd stayed at Radiator Springs through everything. It helped to be busy, running the Motel and not having to think about things.

Of course she always was, and she was always worried. The first day Mac had called and she'd known from his voice things were wrong.

"What do you mean, he's gone missing?"

"I checked up on him that night, just after his stint in the bar, and he was gone. I'm sorry, Sally. I don't know where he is."

"Well, maybe he's just got stage fright. This is the last race of the season."

She'd known she was grasping at straws already with that one. Lightning never got nervous about races. Especially not Piston Cup Races. He wouldn't have missed it for the world.

"Are you kiddin'. He wouldn't have missed it for the world." Mac confirmed what she already knew. "Nah. I'd rule that out, Sally,"

"Then what would you suggest?" Sally couldn't help the coldness which reached her tone. Mac wasn't being very helpful, and Lightning was missing...

"Well, I doubt he's took a ride with anybody else, but there is one interesting thing that's come out of this,"

"What?"

"Chick Hick's has gone missing too,"

"Oh," Sally said hollowly. She didn't know much about Chick Hicks. Only that he was boxy and green and a dirty cheat. And Lightning didn't like him very much at all. "Well. Do you think he has anything to do with it?"

Mac responded in a conspirative voice; "well, it's all kinda fishy, isn't it? Our Lightning goes missing the same time as his old rival? I'd say Chick might have plenty to do with it,"

Sally scowled. She'd known racing could be a stupidly competitive sport, and insanely immature with it, but this was just ridiculous.

"What? You mean he'd actually kidnap Lightning?"

"I wouldn't put it past Chick. Actually, I wouldn't put it past anyone. We all know Lightning is hot favourite to win this year, and-"

"-Mac, have you been in contact with Chick's crew?" Sally asked as patiently as she could manage.

"Nah, not yet. I can try, though. You want me to?"

"Please,"

Sally replaced the phone with a worried frown. Her thoughts were dotted and mixed, considering all the terrible things a dirty player like Chick Hick's might have done to Lightning. Who knew anyone could stoop so low.

"Argh. Racing can be so stupid," she wheeled round and met the enquiring faces of Flo and Ramone.

She told them what had happened over a few cups of Gasohol which mostly made her feel more worried and also a bit sick.

Maybe it was all just worry.

Whatever it was, she rolled around Radiator Springs in pointless circles before Doc turned up. Doc was comforting and kind faced, and Sally appreciated him more than anything when he gave her a reassuring smile.

"I'm sure he's just gotten side-tracked. He's a young un'. He's got to make his mistakes."

"Mistakes?" Sally blinked. Doc's words didn't really match the comfort of his face.

"Well," Doc looked awkward, which was strange on his wise face, "Racers, young racers especially, they get a bit wild sometimes. Believe me, I had some crazy times back in my day. Always on the road, sometimes it was nice just to break lose and freewheel."

"Break lose? Freewheel?" Sally was more confused. She did notice Fillmore and Ramone nodding in a very enthusiastic way though.

"Sure," Doc said, " some nights, they were real blurs. And the next mornings were always brutal. Course, they taught me some good lessons," he chuckled gently, and looked like he might be recalling a fond memory.

Sally decided it was perfectly horrendous, and she glared;

"You're telling me...you're telling me Lightning is missing because he's gone off and gotten wasted?"

Doc coughed awkwardly, which still refused to suit him. "it's just an idea. Wouldn't you rather it that than anything else, Sally?"

"What else?"

Doc's face resolved into seriousness. "Well any number of things could have happened to him."

His voice was cool and quiet, and suddenly Sally was more afraid than she'd ever been.

"What do you think has happened to him?"

Doc didn't look at her, his eyes fixed the floor; "I can't say. But whatever it is it obviously can't be good. We know Lightning's favourite to win the cup, and-"

"It's just a cup!" Sally cried. "Didn't you say that? Didn't you tell Lightning that? Why would anyone do anything to him?"

"I don't pretend to be in touch with the younger generations, Sally," Doc said softly. "Heck, even in my youth we didn't risk half so much on the track as the cars do these days. They're wired different. They think different. That Chick Hicks, for example-"

"Hicks!" Sally glowered. "He's missing too,"

Doc raised a windshield; "yes. I heard about it,"

"Well?" Sally didn't mean to be rude, but her patience was being tested by panic as well as annoyance; "don't you think it's suspicious? Don't you think he might have something to do with it?"

Doc seemed to consider; "it's a possibility, Sally."

His tone was patronising and painfully unconvincing, and Sally felt like she was floundering in thick oil. Nobody, not even Doc, was going to tell her that Lightning was alright. And who was she to expect it? Nobody knew.

But she still had her doubts and fears about one Chick Hicks.

"Chick's a nasty piece of work, but I don't think even he'd go to such lengths."

Strip Weather's, otherwise "The King" to his many faithful fans, looked solemn and honest on the television screen the next morning.

The general media were good at rousing up a good story, and most were in on the idea that Chick might have kidnapped Lightning. It was shocking and disconcerting that the King didn't think that way.

After everything, especially.

"But Strip, he almost killed you last season. How can you defend a car who has caused you such trauma in the past?"

Strip snorted; "hardly trauma, son," he addressed the enthusiastic interviewer, "Chick's just a bit too spirited sometimes. Not always a bad thing on the track, you know." he hesitated and then; "Can't say I know him personally, but I'm pretty certain he ain't a murderer."

The statement was met with murmurs and not much else. Sally had watched it from the small comfort of her motel room.

Strip Weathers was respected and kind-hearted. He hadn't been competitive in his last days on the track, and he'd always been kind and courteous, Lightning had told her.

Staring at the television screen, Sally made up her mind to go visit him.

It was evening before she reached his home, which was large and grand looking. Only to be expected of an old Dinoco Sponsor, she guessed. Not that she'd pretend she knew anything at all about racing.

"Nice to meet you, Sally," Mrs Weathers had said sympathetically, and had talked a bit about how much she respected Lightning, and hoped he turned up soon.

Sally had nodded her thanks, and couldn't do very much else. She hated to think properly about it, never mind talk about it, right now.

Strip Weathers was handsome in an aged sort of way, Sally could see. And when he sat in a homely looking lounge infront of an old TV set, blaring out old videos of black and white races she couldn't help but be intrigued.

"That's you?" she addressed the car that lapped about a track, and it looked smooth and expert even with crackles of old tape marred over it.

"Oh, hello Miss Sally," Strip greeted with an easy smile. He nodded; "yep. Sure is. Showing my age a bit now, aren't I?"

He grinned, and Mrs Weathers rolled her eyes and smiled knowingly at Sally.

Sally barely noticed it; her attention fixed on the tv. Strip's smooth racing briefly jarred, and in a second he was sliding into another car and almost spinning out of the track.

Strip winced. "I was a bit reckless in my youth,"

Sally looked at him, and then back at the wild car on the black and white set. They were the same but different. Sally wasn't sure what she thought anymore. Racing was a confusing, frustrating business, it seemed.

She swallowed and gaze him a quizzical look; "excuse me?"

"In my youth, I wasn't especially careful on the track. Actually, I was a bit of a pain," Strip explained, and Mrs Weather's gave him a nudge in the side. He smiled at her and she smiled back at him, and it almost hurt Sally. It reminded her too much of Lightning.

"Yes, he was quite the wildcard back in his day," Mrs Weathers laughed. "Course, he got it out of his system in the end."

Sally nodded, and smiled thinly. She wasn't sure how this was supposed to help or comfort her.

Strip looked warm. "See, Miss Sally, what I'm saying is, if this'll put your mind at rest about any small thing at all, I don't think Chick Hick's has anything to do with it. Whatever's happened to Lightning McQueen, it's probably happened to Chick too."

Sally thought it was a bit extraordinary that Strip seemed to consider any sympathy for Chick as well as Lightning, after what had happened barely a year before.

She nodded gratefully, but it did very little to ease her mind. She knew nothing would, not until she saw Lightning safe and well again.

"Oh honey, please don't worry too much. Your Lightning will show up good and well real soon, I'm sure." Mrs Weathers said.

"Thanks," Sally nodded, but left the Weathers' home more confused than assured.

Not even Mater, who was always there at Radiator Springs, and always keen to encourage her to keep positive, could cheer her.

"Maybe they got kidnapped by them ah...um, UFO's? You know, I hear about them a little while ago. Think I mighta even saw one just last night, when I was out tractor tippin,"

"I don't think so, Mater,"

She knew he was only trying to help, as was everyone else. And now everyone had lumped Lightning and Chick Hicks together, and she didn't know what to think anymore. For all she had heard about Chick, she prayed he had not been behind Lightning's disappearance. She couldn't even begin to imagine what a nasty piece of work like that might have done to Lightning if it was true.

"Sally, you still there?"

"Oh, yes. I'm here, Doc." Sally spoke into the receiver. "Lightning...he...he's alright?"

"Yeah. And it's all flashing up on the news. Copter's everywhere. I don't know where the heck he's been, looks like some wasteland, pretty far from here."

Flo moved to switch on the Diner TV, and Sally waited with baited breath as an inexpert news camera panned over a vast gorge. She didn't breath until she saw the speck of red. The camera zoomed jerkily into it, and then Lightning was in full view, and he looked dirty and tired. His eyes were wide and shiny, and he was saying things nobody could hear. Whatever it was, he looked upset and desperate.

Near to him was the green car.

"Sally? You want me to come with you to pick him up? He might still make it for the Cup if we can get him fixed up in time,"

Sally kept staring at the screen. "You're sure, Doc? He looks...they look like they've been through something."

"Well, we'll see how he is when we get to him, then."

Sally nodded. "I'm just glad he's...he's alright," her voice quivered, and that was when she had cried.

888


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

The journey between the gorge and the mechanics garage didn't really seem to take place. Or if it did, it must have been some sort of timeslip which consisted of blurry images and noisy commotion. There were hectic flashes of photography and mikes flung in front of Lightning's face countless times, and savage helicopter blades accompanied by tinny voices in radio speakers that sounded familiar. But still too far away to be very important.

Lightning McQueen was mostly lost in panicked and upset thoughts about his arch rival.

Eventually those tinny radio voices were fleshed out into forms that Lightning might have been glad to see at any other time in his life. Doc, Mater, Mac and of course Sally were flocked round him as he was whisked away to the nearest Mechanics.

Lightning only managed to catch the slightest flash of green metal, before Chick was taken out of sight, leaving him to fret and worry a little bit more.

"Lightning, are you alright?"

Sally's voice was calm and warm, and Lightning felt like he should have been grateful for it. But the stupid green car was still bumping the front of his mind, insisting on tossing it into feelings of concern and turmoil.

"I-I'm ok,"

It wasn't an odd thing to experience as a rule. Lightning had felt concern and turmoil a few times before, mostly after he'd jarred with another car on the race track and worried he might have caused a bit of damage. But this was different, and Lightning's mind couldn't settle on anything other than Chick Hicks. That wasn't just odd. That was shocking.

"Is he...is Chick alright?" he answered Sally's querying face. She still looked worried, and he loved her for it. Everyone else; Mac, the Doc and Mater, looked vaguely stunned.

Sally shook her head shortly. "I don't know anything about it, Lightning. They took him in a little bit before you. I think he's still being seen to, in the other room."

Lightning glanced at the door and bit his lip. If Chick was just in the next room, he could go see him, and make sure he was alright...

"Whoa, whoa. Hang on there, sonny,"

Lightning felt a terrible grating on his axle, and then he realised he was one tire short. He rolled his eyes at the mechanic who was surveying his engine.

"I feel fine. Look, can you just let me see-"

"Lightning, you're not fine. You've just been down a gorge," Sally said.

"But I feel fine," Still he lowered to the ground and settled for frowning at the clinical white wall in front of him.

The mechanic probed about his rear and generally made him feel uncomfortable for a few minutes more before examining his front, under the hood. A little smoke exited it, which made Sally utter a small noise, but the mechanic just looked intrigued, and quirked a windshield.

"Is it serious?" Sally asked.

Despite feeling altogether ok, Lightning's gut clenched, and he awaited the mechanics answer with baited breath.

"Quite the contrary, actually," the mechanic said.

"What do you mean?"

"This motor, it's in excellent condition. Looks like it's been newly fitted, actually."

Lightning snorted. The mechanic did look pretty young. Clearly inexperienced and had no idea what he was talking about. He looked to Doc for a better verdict.

"That's impossible. That motor was fitted a couple of seasons back." Doc said. "I should know, I was the one that did it."

The inexperienced and stupid mechanic shook his head at Doc. "No. This is definitely a newly fitted motor. I'd say...no more than a few days old, actually. Look, you can even see all the new wiring."

Doc peered round to look under the hood, and Mac, Mater and Sally did the same, making Lightning feel like a naked spectacle at best. He was also betrayed by all four of their agreeable expressions.

"It does look pretty new, Stickers,"

"Well, I..." Lightning paused. He didn't mind accusing a strange mechanic of being stupid, but Sally was different. She knew her engines, and she knew her motors. She'd hung around Doc's dingy old garage at Radiator Springs long enough to pick up a few things, anyway.

Shifting in his confusion, Lightning gave the mechanic a questioning look.

"I don't know how it happened, then. I guess, maybe-" his voice trailed off as possibilities suddenly flooded his mind.

Yes, he'd definitely never been aware of having a new motor fitted, but did that really count for anything after these past few demented days? If he thought about it, Lightning supposed he'd been unconscious for a good chunk of his car napping jape with Chick.

And Chick...Chick had been...there.

That was a dumb thought. Of course Chick had been there. The obnoxious green car had been there when Lightning hadn't wanted him to be there, and then when he definitely had.

When he definitely had.

Chick had been nasty, and rude and terrible, but he'd also been there. And he had helped Lightning.

Lightning blinked, feeling something faintly like an epiphany. And then something like a flashback in his mind; of looking hesitantly in Chick's hood, and finding his motor there. _His motor._

"This isn't my motor," Lightning realised aloud.

"Excuse me?" The mechanic stared at him.

"This isn't my motor," Lightning repeated, more certainly.

"Of course it is, Lightning," Sally frowned. "It's inside of you. Whose else could it-"

"It's Chicks. Chick gave it to me,"

"What?"

It made sense, Lightning knew, and he wasn't put off my the incredulous looks he was getting from both mechanic and girlfriend.

"Chick swapped the motors. He replaced mine with his, cos he knew it was in better condition." he explained.

"That's impossible," the mechanic said. "cars, normal cars, they can't perform complex operations like that."

"I'm not saying that," Lightning glared. "We stopped off at a garage on the way back, and there were some road cars there who helped us. He must've...when we...he must've got them to swap the motors there..."

"What? Why would he do that?" Sally looked confused.

"I-" Lightning tried to remember. Anything, something, of what had happened, just before he'd found himself safe at the road cars abandoned garage.

But he knew and remembered only that he'd been unconscious. He remembered being completely immobile and the bikers looming toward them, and then Chick saying he was going ahead, to get help.

Then Lighting remembered incredible pain, none like he'd ever felt before in his motor. A sort of burning, and even surreal thoughts of death in his mind. He'd moved with what he thought and perhaps knew was the last of his engine power, and had burnt it out.

The next thing he'd known was awaking in the comforting dimness of a strange garage. And then there had been a bunch of friendly road cars surrounding him, looking pleased with themselves. And Chick was there too, and he'd explained that the road cars had fixed him up really good and he should thank them.

Lightning had, and that had been the end of it.

"Lightning?" Sally's voice brought him back to the present. Reminded him he was safe now.

"Oh," he mumbled, and was barely aware of her, moving to his side.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Mm. No, not really." Lightning shook his front.

"What is it?"

"I...it's just...I thanked the wrong person."

Sally looked at him, bewildered. "I don't understand,"

"It's ok," Lightning more felt his voice than heard it, soft and weak at the back of his throat. He moved forwards a bit, but was once more reminded that he was short one tire. "Please, doc. Can you fix me up? I only need to get to the next room."

"Lightning..." Sally started.

"Please," Lightning repeated, resolving to offer her a patient stare. She'd understand, she was Sally and she cared about him.

"I...I don't understand," she said. "You two can't stand each other. Why would you swap motors like that?"

"I..."

Lightning wasn't sure what to say. He couldn't possibly, even if he was sure. He couldn't exactly explain how he'd come to worry and think about Chick like he might do a friend. Someone like Mater, someone like Mac, someone who clearly deserved their friendship.

Because Sally wouldn't understand, and nobody else would either; Mater and Mac included. They all knew Chick Hick's was a nasty piece of metal, and they all knew, they all thought that Lightning hated him.

They couldn't possibly know what had happened out on the wasteland, when Lightning and Chick had been scared and only in each others company. Lightning wasn't sure what had happened himself, yet he wasn't half so shocked that Chick had apparently given up his own metal hide to save him. Not near so shocked as he might have been before; before all this happened.

Lighting blinked at Sally. "I- I don't know," he edged to her, and nudged her wing gently. "But..I wanna make sure he's ok. Ok?"

Mater flanked his side. "Whatever you wanna do. It's ok with us, right?"

Mac nodded, but Doc was eyeing Lightning with a strange interest.

"Are you saying Chick willingly gave you that motor, kid? Chick Hicks?"

"Yeah. That's what I'm saying."

"Well," Doc seemed to consider. "If that's what he did, that's what he did." he peered at Lightning's bonnet again, and a strange sort of surprise crossed his face. He turned to the other mechanic; "is it safe for him to go out there and not get mobbed by the press?"

The mechanic hesitated in his answer, as he rolled to the doorway; "I'll make sure it's all clear,"

Doc nodded, and went about fixing Lightning a new tire. Sally, Mater and Mac watched on, nervous and awkward. Probably they didn't know what to say, but Lightning was too distracted to attempt polite conversation, and he could hear muffled commotion outside the Mechanics.

"Why is everyone here?" he sighed. "They all saw us. They know we're here, what's the point waiting around?"

"Lightning, you're a famous race car. Surely you knew this would happen." Sally said, a bit incredulous. "Don't you remember last time? With all the photographers, and how they whisked you away-"

"-this isn't like last time," Lightning didn't mean to snap, though he knew he had when he caught the expression on Sally's face. "Look, I'm sorry. But this is nothing like last time. Last time I was fine and everything was great. Last time I wasn't busy worrying about some stupid 86 who was too reckless for his own good."

Lighting wheeled out of the room before Doc had barely replaced the tire. It felt loose and shaky beneath him, but he hardly cared. The smallish corridor ahead of him was bathed in white, and there were doors slightly ajar which revealed varying casualties of all variety of Car.

Lightning had never been in a proper hospital until now, and the ominous sounds of electric drills and wielding made his innards turn. As inconspicuously as possible, he rolled down the corridor until he spotted a small collection of photographers, just outside a door. When they saw Lightning they rushed toward him, but he kept moving resolutely through them.

"Lightning McQueen!" one eager interviewer pressed forward. "How does it feel to have been car napped and taken for dead?"

"No comment," Lightning said absently, attention all for the door a little way ahead.

"How do you feel about the theories regarding your racing rival Chick Hicks and his involvement in the car napping?"

"No com...what? Chick?" Lightning flashed the interviewer a confused glance. "Involved? What are you talking about?"

"It can come as no surprise that your greatest rival might be behind some of these events, regarding his own absence, and of course his own track record as a race car in general-"

The interviewers words rambled and meshed into nonsense, and Lightning saw nothing but angry red for a few short seconds.

"Chick had nothing to do with it! He didn't car nap me!" he struggled to part his way through the feverish photographers and keep focus on the door ahead. "Whatever you've heard is a lie! I should know...he...he saved me!"

It had sounded absurd in his mind, when he was trying to get his head round the obvious fact. But now, when he shouted it aloud before shocked news reporters, it sounded more right and normal than he'd ever imagined in his stupid, hesitant mind.

Of course. Chick was his friend. And Chick had saved his life.

"Chick didn't do anything, he had nothing to do with it, so you can all just leave him alone!" he yelled at the flash of cameras. "...and I wouldn't be here without him!"

There were loud murmurs and small squeaks of excitement, and more mikes and cameras were directed on his face.

"Can you give us some details about how all of this unfolded? Anything at all?"

"I.."

"Can you tell us what happened? How did the 86 save you?"

"What...he-"

"Leave the kid alone, you crazy vultures!"

Lightning turned to see Doc, making his way through the press with an irritated face. They all peered at him with awe and immediately parted the way. Of course, he was Doc, the Hudson Hornet.

Lightning smiled weakly; "thanks, Doc."

"Don't mention it," Doc sided up to him appraisingly. "Well. I'm pretty sure I saw them taking Chick through that door," he gestured with knowing eyes.

"Doc..." Lightning started; "do you...you believe me? You believe Chick helped me?"

"Yeah,"

"But why? Nobody else would...Mater, Mac...even Sally. They probably all think I'm crazy. Maybe I am. Maybe I bumped my head on that gorge or something, and I got some bolts loose.."

"No," Doc shook his head solemnly. "None of us think you're crazy, McQueen. It's just a lot to take in, that's all. And Sally's been worried out of her mind for you. We all have. You just go missing one night, and so does Chick Hicks-"

"I guess it does seem pretty suspicious." Lightning admitted to the floor. Who was he even kidding? It had been suspicious. Lightning had thought the same not too long ago.

He blinked back up at Doc.

"Listen, I know it seems weird. But I know Chick's a good guy, really. And he did save me."

"I know." Doc nodded.

"Why're you so sure?"

"That engine in your bonnet belongs to the Buik Regal Model." Doc explained. "And the only race car sporting that model these days is Chick Hicks. Looks like it was fitted for the last race of the cup, too."

"That's why it seems so new," Lightning realised.

"And don't kid yourself, rookie," the Doc said, more gently. "Most race cars start off as cocky little bits of metal...and grow up a bit after a while, right?"

"Yeah, right," Lightning knew exactly what he meant.

A touch of urgency reached him when the door in front of them swung open. A blue Mechanic rolled out with a serious face.

"Chick...is he-"

"Are you friend or family?"

"Ah, erm, friend. I'm his friend."

The blue car surveyed both Chick and Doc for a moment or two, then his severe front softened into a tired sigh;

"He isn't too well. We're doing all we can, son."

"Well, can't you let me go see him? He probably wants someone there, right?"

"Maybe he would, if he'd wake up,"

Lightning trembled in his frustration, and reversed backwards. The Mechanic moved out, and then Lightning took this chance to weave through the open doorway.

The room was quite small and solitary, and the first thing Lightning saw was cluttered innards and tangled wires, of which he knew nothing about, all laid out on the ground. Nearby, and making Lightning take a sharp gulp of air, was Chick, who for all appearances, looked like he might just be sleeping.

But his bonnet was missing, and Lightning's engine was there for him to see. Battered and unfunctional.

Lightning quickly lowered his gaze to the ground, feeling unspeakably rude, as though he might be intruding upon someone else's dignity.

"Why the long face, rookie?"

Lightning almost sprung back at the tired but familiar voice, and he stared as Chick opened his eyes, and his smile was clearer than it ever was before, since his bumper was still missing.

"Hey," Lightning didn't know what else to say. He wheeled over to Chick, his own smile quivering and unsure. "I thought you'd...I thought you were a goner, you jerk."

"What?" Chick's smile widened into a smirk. "You think somethin' like a little gorge can finish me off? I told you, rook. The old models are still the-"

"Still the best, yeah, I get it." Lightning nodded. He wanted to be annoyed. Instead, annoyingly, he was elated. He laughed, and it was relieved and shaky. "I dunno what you're talking about, Chick. You've been running on my engine." he rolled his eyes pointedly to Chick's exposed bonnet.

Chick blinked, and came out of his weak yet cocky stance a bit, and instead just looked awkward.

"Oh. Eh...you noticed that, huh?"

"C'mon, Chick." Lightning rolled his eyes. "when did you think I wouldn't notice?"

"Well," Chick eyed the ground sheepishly. "I was just doing you a little favour back there, that's all. Stupid rookie," he added for good measure.

Lightning grinned. "You're insane. And crazy and incredibly mental."

"Thanks,"

"That's why I like you," Lightning amended. "You're probably the worse friend I've ever made, and I'll regret it forever. But I like you."

"Friend?" Chick raised a windshield, his eyes widened a bit. He seemed to consider the word, then shook his front slowly. "Damn. My reps goin' straight out the window today." his glare was half-hearted, and interrupted by his own wince anyway. "Ah, damn. This hurts...pretty bad."

"Hey, don't worry." Lightning said, trying not to worry himself. "The Mechanic will be back soon. He just went out to get something," he veered round so that he was at Chick's side. He felt the bare tremble of the green car as he scraped ever so shortly against his side. "You know, that mechanic reckoned you hadn't woke up yet. Pretty dumb, huh?"

"If that's the guy whose operating on me, you're not very comforting, McQueen." Chick said witheringly. His suspension whined as he lowered closer to the ground, and his eyes drooped.

"Operating?" Lightning asked meekly.

"Somethin' about needing to get some equipment. Said that I'd need some refits as soon as possible. Can't say I really remember it. Man, my head hurts..." even as he spoke, Lightning noticed Chick's voice fading, and he realised Chick really was in a bad way.

"Hey," he nudged the green cars bumperless side. "You can't just drop off like that. I've not finished telling you what an idiot you were,"

"Huh?" Chick cracked open an eye- since they'd already succumbed to shutting, and looking enquiringly at the red car. "idiot?"

"Yeah. You know. With the whole saving me thing. That was pretty stupid. And reckless."

"I told you, I was just making a point," Chick said, closing his eyes again.

"And brave. It was brave, too," Lightning carried on, anything to keep Chick talking. "It was...it was real brave, you know."

"Whatever." Chick mumbled. He sounded more asleep than awake now, and Lightning knew his next words would fall on mostly deaf ears;

"And, erm. Thanks. Thunder."

Chick's response was drowned in muffled sleep. Maybe he was just exhausted, and was just pining for much needed rest. Maybe it was more serious. Whatever it was, Lightning had never longed so badly for a cutting, nasty response. Usually rookie, dripping poisonous sarcasm, coupled with an annoyed glare.

Chick didn't do any of these things.

"Chick. You'll have to hurry up and get better, ok? And you know I've gotta see your gutted face on the race track, when I pick up the cup all over again."

Lightning was startled to feel tears pricking his eyes. But the shifting of a door pulled him out of growing upset, and he turned to see the blue Mechanic standing there.

"You'd better get going, kid. Before the press catch on you're in here."

Lightning nodded, hoping his eyes weren't betraying him with their shininess. He blinked at Chick. "He'll be ok. We were just talking,"

The Mechanic was surprised for a tiny moment, then muttered as he observed the green car. "I shouldn't be so surprised. These models can go through hell and back in one piece. Beasts to look at, but sure are durable."

Lightning was almost tempted to defend Chick, but then he had the feeling Chick might like that description of himself after all.

"Take care of him," he told the Mechanic before he left.

"C'mon, kid. I think Mac and Mater's attempts to divert the press will be failing round about now,"

Outside Doc was waiting, and alongside him was Sally. She looked upset and happy all at once. It didn't really make sense, but Lightning could understand now.

He nuzzled her front and smiled assurance. "Sorry I worried you, Sally."

"Don't ever do it again,"

Ahead, Mater came reeling round the corner, his eyes dazed and diluted.

"They're comin'! The flashes's, they're a-comin'!"

The merciless press came into view, and Lightning took a deep breath, preparing for the probing questions and blinding photos.

In some respects, he still wished he was out on the deserted desert with just an aggravated Chick for company.

888


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

The slim flash of red rushed by him, once, twice, three times, and then more than he could ever count.

Chick wasn't bitter that he'd not been able to race in the final of the Piston Cup. Well. Maybe just a little bit.

"C'mon, stupid rookie!"

"Don't call him that," Sally nudged his side with a light frown. "He's been racing a lot longer than some of the others, you know,"

Chick snorted. "Not compared to me, he's not," he watched the flash of red spin by again. "what the hell was that? I coulda cleared that tighter on two wheels! Pathetic, rookie! Pathetic!"

"_Chick_,"

"You're real supportive, you know, Chick." Mater was giggling happily nearby.

"Better believe it, rusty. You won't get no better engine than that." he looked a bit regretful, "he's gonna burn it out before the end of the race,"

He noticed Sally roll her eyes, but it was with good humour, and he was sort of glad that it was.

Things were great; McQueen was racing, and Chick was dying to tell him some important news. He almost wanted the race to finish now, so that he could just tell him. That was weird in itself. But these last few weeks had all been fairly weird overall anyway.

He remembered bits of things. He remembered a slow burning all over his undercarriage, and a thick dense smell which he later realised must have been smoke. His eyes had watered through it's strength, but he'd been too busy trying to remember what consciousness was, and how he was supposed to keep it.

The gorge was hard, that's all he could remember thinking. It was funny really; how could he have expected it to be anything else? But he remembered, as his tires crunched into uneven ground, and his suspension seemed to drill him into the ground for a few agonising seconds, how incredibly hard everything was. He remembered thinking how expensive those tires had been, all ready for the big race, and now they were ruined, ripped to shreds.

He didn't remember anything else. He didn't even think to remember Lightning, who had jumped with him, and who might be in this same position now. Maybe that was why he couldn't remember anything else, because that just didn't bear thinking about.

None of it had mattered though. Not in the end. Whenever the end happened to be. Everything after the gorge was weird and disorientating for a little while after. He thought there had been mechanics, and strange sensations around his bonnet, and voices that were too low. He wanted to yell at them; speak louder! I can't hear a damn word you're sayin'! I got a race to get to, y' know!

He couldn't say anything. He wasn't sure if he even owned a mouth then.

Then something had happened that had sparked something in his memory. He was sure of it, although it might have been a very vivid dream.

McQueen was there at his side, and his voice was familiar and not as hard to hear as all those other voices. It even made him think he might actually have a mouth, and maybe he should say something back.

When he did speak it sounded like thick water rushing through his brain, and though it had hurt, it was almost welcomed when he noticed McQueen's small smile. For some reason it was a good thing; although his mind couldn't quite catch up with why it was just yet.

Everything was still fuzzy and smelt of thick smoke.

It'd be like that for a good couple of weeks. Then Chick came to his senses and almost died of embarrassment.

"Easy, Chick. You've had some major overhauling done, there,"

Chick had winced away from his crew chief, and anyone else who beared his many sponsors when they greeted him outside of the mechanics. He supposed he should have been grateful. They'd arranged a quiet evening for his departure, so that no photographers would be there, and they'd timed it right.

Not one flashing camera in sight, not one probing mike, and for once Chick Hick's revelled in it. There was nothing more perfect than feeling ordinary. Being himself. Being normal. He didn't think he had the energy for all that bravado today, anyway.

"You want a lift home, Chick?" his crew chief was suitably concerned, and that was where Chick noticed it. He stopped in his tired, rolling tracks and blinked up at the crew chief.

It was awful. He barely even remembered the guys full name, and yet he'd been there for all his racing life. Giving him advice, telling him what was best, actually caring.

Chick blinked, feeling a little disgusted at himself. "Nah. I don't need a lift tonight, Trucker." he hesitated. "But, um. Thanks, anyway."

He wheeled in the opposite direction before he might gain the crew chief's reaction. Probably keeled over in shock round about now. Chick could almost smile, until he remembered everything else in his dismal life, and then he just felt a bit empty and embarrassed again.

He knew only one thing; he had to talk to McQueen.

Maybe his brain was still a bit messed up from the gorge incident, but Chick didn't realise it might seem odd to ring Lightning McQueen at a little past midnight, and then expect Lightning to meet him in a dubious looking bar on the outskirts of town after a simple; "hey, it's Chick."

But Lightning didn't say much on the phone, and Chick waited in the bar, slurping on a can of gasohol he knew he shouldn't really be indulging in, after everything the mechanics had advised him about.

It was quiet in the bar, so he knew immediately when McQueen arrived, looking anxious and upset all at once.

"What are you doing out?" the red car was right in his face, hissing, before Chick could even begin.

Chick opened his mouth dumbly, and then didn't know what to say. It was strange; the last time he'd seen McQueen it had all been white and dream like, and smoke had been everywhere. McQueen had looked like safety, and that had seemed to be reason enough for Chick to see him now. Only now McQueen looked angry. Real angry.

"I-" Chick felt stupid now, too. He shook his front. "Look, can I get you a drink, rook?" he attempted.

"What?" McQueen blinked past Chick to the bar, "what...you...no I don't want a drink, you moron!"

"-Hey!" Chick raised up a bit, feeling more defensive than insulted. "What's with this attitude, McQueen? I'm out here, inviting you out for a drink, I'm even offering to pay, and you're calling me a moron?"

McQueen shook his head, a little more baffled than angry now.

"Well is it any surprise? You've just been in a huge accident, next thing I know you're ringing me in the middle of the night, and you're drinking!"

"Yeah. So?"

"So? Well how am I to know anything about this? You think anyone's told me anything? For all I know, you could've escaped! Or been in trouble,"

Chick stared at him for a tiny moment, then turned a sombre look at his can. "Well I'm not. I'm drinking, and everything's fine. So you can go now if you want, rook,"

"Well-I—won't." McQueen bit his lip into a tight pout. "I might as well have a drink, now." he set himself squarely and huffily next to Chick, and Chick almost beamed as he ordered another round.

He wasn't sure, but this seemed alright. He was feeling himself relax a bit, and he felt less muddled than he had when he'd first left the mechanics that night.

"So what did the docs say?" McQueen's voice sounded forcibly controlled, like he was trying to swallow sickness. Chick really didn't like it, but he answered;

"Same old stuff. Same old. Just gotta take it easy and all that,"

"And?"

"And what?" Chick looked at McQueen.

"And the race. You know, the Piston Cup. Can you race?"

It was funny. Through the whole thing, Chick hadn't spared the cup a single thought. Since waking and gathering his mind back into something comprehensible, he hadn't thought of much at all, other than wanting to speak to McQueen. And even then, he had never been sure what he would say to him.

And he realised this right at that moment in the bar, and then wondered what the hell he was doing here, dragging McQueen along with him. Just what exactly had he planned to say? Or why couldn't it have waited till tomorrow, when his mind felt a bit more...together?

Dear Ford, no wonder McQueen had been so angry...

"McQueen-"

"The race," McQueen repeated, with concern. Then Chick remembered Lightning had been asking him about the race.

"Oh. Yeah. Well, obviously I can't compete no more, rookie."

McQueen's eyes widened; "what? you mean never again?"

"No," Chick snorted. "Just for this final. They said I should be ok for next season, though. Watch out, McQueen." he grinned, and hoped it was vaguely ominous and threatening. McQueen's unimpressed face clearly said not.

"So you're missing the race," McQueen repeated, and looked more like he was talking to himself. He looked at Chick again, and the anger seemed to have all been seeped out and replaced with something softer.

Chick remembered it from before, before the gorge had happened. It made him feel...safe, or something. It was that feeling he'd been trying to grasp ever since he'd properly woken up in a state of confusion.

"Chick, I don't understand why you did it," Lightning said in a voice that matched his soft expression.

"What?"

"You know what."

"No, I don't," Chick took a hasty sip on his gasohol. Maybe he did know, his mind just didn't want him to remember just yet.

"You swapped the motors round. You know it,"

Chick tried to keep his gaze hard on his can, but he could almost feel McQueen staring at him, and it was uncompromising and inescapable. This was what he'd been feeling so embarrassed about, then.

"Oh," he said in a small voice, "that,"

"That? That's all you can say about it?"

"What else can I say?" Chick told his can. "I swapped the motors, big deal. It's over now. No harm done,"

"What're you talking about, Chick? You nearly died,"

It hadn't felt like death to Chick. He wasn't sure why McQueen was making such a fuss about it all. He hadn't really considered death very much. Chick didn't get scared like that.

And it hadn't mattered anyway, so long as McQueen was all ok.

The vague confusion still swimming around the back of Chick's mind told him this was probably what it all boiled down to.

Chick frowned at his can. Probably? What kind of thinking was that? Stupid, messed up thinking.

He shook his head and looked back at McQueen. Somehow it seemed to help. Looking at the red car, and then remembering everything that had happened. He could remember Lightning McQueen as an obnoxious rookie (and he was), but he could also remember McQueen out on the wasteland. And it all made a lot more sense then.

"McQueen," Chick started, and hated that he sounded rather pathetic, "I've been...this is dumb. Calling you out here," he gestured round the dead bar. "I guess I just wanted to make sure you're all ok. And you are. So, er, I better get going," he began to reverse round, away from McQueen, but McQueen followed him, his face stern.

"You're right, that was dumb, Chick," he said, blocking Chick's path. "You've done a few pretty dumb things, but this still doesn't beat saving my life. What was the deal with that?"

Chick bumped him, wanting to get out of the bar, and McQueen let him through.

Outside it was cool and things seemed to be clearer in Chick's mind. he looked at the sky and it looked just like those days before, on the wasteland. It was almost like nothing had changed.

"The deal," he said aloud, knowing that McQueen was just behind him. "the deal is this, McQueen." he took a moment to confront his mind. It was still a little messed up; he couldn't tell if it was just playing with him.

But it stayed resolute and stubborn, so maybe it was telling the truth.

He looked round at McQueen.

"You're like...well, it's like, I don't usually get attached to things, you know? I don't think I ever...not before..." he tried to process the words into proper order, it almost hurt. "I mean, I was just leavin' the mechanics tonight, McQueen, and my crew chief met me. Then I realised I barely even spoke to him. Like, ever."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I never spoke to him! None of em. I just treated them all like...like tools. And I only just realised that. That's real bad, isn't it?"

"Well, yeah," McQueen sounded like he might be smiling. He rolled to Chick's side. "but at least you finally realised it."

Chick cast him a withering look; "point is, you're like the first car I thought of as..." he wasn't sure he could say it.

"Friend?" McQueen supplied, hopeful.

"Oh, um. Yeah. Whatever. Friend."

"Nice," McQueen nodded. He sounded like he might be smiling a bit more. "Well I would have hoped so,"

"What?"

"Well you're my friend now. It'd be kinda weird if I weren't yours too, right?"

"Oh. Uh. I guess so." Chick wasn't sure if that made any sense, but he was more distracted by a strange sense of relief, and an urge to grin stupidly at McQueen.

He managed to contain the grin, and instead gave McQueen a knock on the wing;

"Bet you're glad we don't have to worry about psycho bikers anymore, huh, rook?"

"I wouldn't even bet," Lightning smirked.

Chick mirrored it, and even though they weren't in mortal danger anymore, things felt like they had when they'd been travelling, but in a good way. He guessed that might be what friends were all about. Hanging out with cars without all the negative bits, like psycho bikers and imposing trucks.

"Well, rook. Shame about this year, but next year I'll be leaving you in the dust,"

"Yeah, right," McQueen rolled his eyes.

He went on to tell Chick he was insane and needed to check his clock before calling cars in the middle of the night, but Chick didn't care to remember much else.

He was tired, and his mind told him that things were ok now. He'd get over it; even if he had a hangover in the morning.

88

He did get a hangover, and he complained loudly about it to the press, but not about much else.

It would have been tempting to go all out, and proclaim himself a hero of sorts, and Ford it was tempting! And it would have been great, wonderful to claim damages against Lightning McQueen and make a case about him plotting to stop him from entering the final race of the season.

But even if all of that was wonderful and tempting, it didn't really compare anymore. Chick was happy being the odd green car sat between that rusty yokel and the cute Porsche, occasionally yelling mild expletives at the flash of red that wound round and round the track.

Nice to talk, maybe laugh with other cars.

"Hey Chick, you heard the news?" Mac yelled, somewhere behind him. He was dangling a newspaper in his mouth.

Chick turned round and nodded; "somethin' to celebrate, right?" he nudged Sally with a grin; "Doesn't look like Lightning will be,"

"He's winning!" the Porsche protested.

"Celebrations? Want another drink?" Mac asked.

"Sure," Chick grinned, and remembered to add please.

Lightning didn't win, but it was close, a photo finish between him and another up and coming rookie. Taking his second place, Lightning greeted everyone with a pleased and tired grin.

"You were great, Lightning," Sally nuzzled into him.

"Bestest race car in the world!" said Mater.

"Pft. I've seen asthmatic snails move faster." Chick told him with a grin. "Better watch out, old man. Those rookie's'll be all over you,"

"Old man?" McQueen was alarmed. "I'm not old! Am I?" he looked at Sally for worried confirmation.

"Of course not," Sally smiled. "Chick's just being bitter and twisted,"

"Well it's either that or Rookie. Take your pick, old man," Chick said.

"You could always try Lightning?" McQueen glared.

"Um...I dunno. I think I like old man better."

"If I'm an old man, you must be...older."

"Shut up. I've got news for you." Chick winked.

"Oh yeah? Is it good?"

"Oh yeah," Chick grinned. "Think they've caught our old pal Dolpha."

Lightning's eyes widened. "You're serious?"

"Uh-huh,"

"Well? Tell me everything!"

"Not so fast rookie-old man. First, tell me. How's it feel to be a part of the great Runners-Up Club?"

888

Inside the bar, where everyone was mixing and talking, everything was better.

"Chick, why don't you come outside? Watch us race properly?"

Not everything was better, of course.

Lightning had understood Chick's confusion that night in the bar, and why he'd asked to see him. But he also knew Chick was never going to get all sentimental and tell Lightning he actually cared, and that he wanted to be friends. So they'd never really mentioned it again, and that had worked out fine.

Being friends with Chick was fine, even if the green car insisted on calling Mater a mountain of derogatory names, and flirting wildly with Sally. Sally was insistent that it was all in fun, but Lightning would never put anything past Chick, who was dirty in more ways than his old tires.

Friends they might be, but Chick was still Chick, and Lightning didn't think he'd want him any other way.

"One day she'll leave me and go off with you," Lightning pouted, when Chick flashed Sally a wink from across the bar.

"I'm not gonna deny I'm a beast," Chick said unapologetically, and he revved his engine sharply as though to demonstrate.

Lightning continued to pout; "yeah, yeah." then he shook his head into seriousness. "Come on, Chick. Why don't you watch outside?"

"You know why. I can see the race just fine from the monitors, anyway."

Lightning sighed. "The King isn't gonna hunt you down for being friends with me,"

"You don't know that," Chick said sheepishly. "He hates me,"

"No he doesn't," Lightning sighed again. He'd been through all this with Chick a few times, but much more with Sally. Sally hadn't had much better luck convincing Chick that things were ok. He just wouldn't listen.

Doc had almost got him round a couple of times. It was kind of incredible; Chick seemed to fawn over the Doc a little; and had immediately recognised him for the legend he once was. It had made Lightning feel rather stupid for not knowing who Doc was originally. Chick hadn't let that one go, just yet.

"The King will forgive you," Lightning started.

"-I trashed him up-"

"And he'll forgive you. He knows you were just incredibly stupid. He knows what it's like. He's the King!"

"Have you spoke to him?"

"Maybe,"

"You!-"

"Calm down. He isn't coming, or anything. But one day you'll have to face him. Properly."

Lightning watched Chick take an unconvinced slurp on his can.

"One step at a time, rookie. One step at a time. You know its hard enough for me just trying to put up with all your demented friends,"

"You're not funny," Lightning scolded, but a smile pulled at his mouth. "Hey Chick?"

"Hmm?"

"I kinda like being a part of the Runners-Up club."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. This one, anyway."

Chick smiled back. He couldn't help it.

"Same here, rook."

END

a/n: sorry I didn't tie everything up completely. I've always been very terrible at ending stories! I thank everyone who read all of this, and special thanks to the wonderful Opalina, who has read each chapter and left lots of feedback throughout! -sends demented fangirl hug-


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